Don't Lose Your Compass
by TeaOli
Summary: M’Umbha wants to give her daughter the wedding of her dreams. Spock fills in when Uhura drops the ball. Complete.
1. Don't Lose Your Compass

"What have you done to my daughter?" Quickly, M'Umbha Uhura glanced down and waved her hands in front of her body then rooted around on her desk. "No, _mwana_. Do not bother answering that question. This is her father's doing."

She made a small sound of frustration before speaking further.

"Tell me she did not reject _this_ one. Even I am running out of ideas, child" she said. "And we are running out of time."

"Yes," said Spock, ignoring the implied question altogether. "I have reminded her that time to confirm our plans — more importantly, your time to implement them — is rapidly diminishing. She continues to assert that 'everything will be fine.'"

M'Umbha barked out a laugh.

"Well, that _does_ sound like our Nyota, at least," she said, still chuckling around her words. "At least she's not so far gone as to be unrecognizable."

From his quarters on the Enterprise, Spock studied his betrothed's mother. The quick, and seemingly drastic, change in her emotions was something he saw echoed in her daughter. Recognition spread warmth somewhere in his body. He'd gained a lot of experience with the sensation since M'Umbha had made herself directly a part of _his_ life, so he didn't stop to examine it this time around.

"Many on the ship are sharing unverified accounts that suggest your daughter and I have undergone a partial personality exchange," he told her. Only his slow blink and tilted head marred the perfectly neutral set of his features. "Have you also noticed such a change in either of us?"

Three seconds of silence passed before M'Umbha was capable of answering her future son-in-law.

"Spock, I believe the word you are looking for is 'gossip'," she told him, sputtering with more laughter. "You meant to say the crew are _gossiping_ about you and Nyota."

"I am aware of the term, Mama," Spock said. "However, I have observed that you find me considerably more amusing when I speak with unnecessary verbosity. And since I noticed, moments ago, a significant release of tension in your body when you engaged in laugher at your daughter's expense, I thought to provide you with an additional source of amusement.

"After all, ma'am, if you continue to 'work yourself into the ground' I will be the only one planning this wedding."

* * *

**A/N:** Just a little bit of fun while I work on _Then Comes Spock_. Although this is taking place earlier in the same storyline, neither is dependant on the other.

**A/N Addendum:** Some of you will notice the name of this story has changed. Who knew Ol' Blue Eyes sang different lyrics than the ones from the musical? Thanks to those of you who pointed it out.

Usual disclaimer: I don't own _Star Trek_, any of the characters, the starship, Earth, or _My Fair Lady_.


	2. Kick Up a Rumpuss

Having ended their first 5-year mission, the crew of the Enterprise had turned their starship back towards Earth. Most of them were beyond looking forward to leaving the ship for more than a few days' worth of shore leave at a time; few more so than the ship's first officer who would be wedding the ship's chief communications officer just a week after their return. If the others could have been described as keen, well then Spock would have been more accurately called _rather desperate_.

Not that many seeing his habitually placid face would have suspected just how much he yearned for Earth, a couple of months to spend on leave and all that those things entailed. At least not at first.

Notable exceptions were one James Tiberius Kirk and one Doctor Leonard McCoy.

Kirk had alternated between tossing out various ideas for a "stag night," and quite earnestly inquiring whether his friend was truly prepared to "spend the rest of his life sleeping with the same woman."

The second question had ceased to be an issue the day an uncharacteristically forthcoming (and exasperated, though not visibly so) Spock decided an answer was in order.

"I believe it was your Paul Newman who said 'Why fool around with hamburger when you have steak at home?' was it not, Captain?" Spock had asked.

Not fazed in the least, Kirk had chuckled.

"Yeah, maybe. But, Spock, you don't eat meat," the captain had said with a wink.

Still, Spock's recitation of Newman's philosophy had effectively shut down Kirk's pursuit of _that_ line of questioning. He didn't quit planning the bachelor party, though.

McCoy had repeatedly offered to tell Commander Spock "all about the birds and the bees" and was still offering him treatises with names such as _Please Her, Please Yourself_ and _The Complete Morons Guide to Not Spending Every Night on the Couch_. (The latter, Spock thought, McCoy should have bought for himself, years ago.)

The rest of the crew hadn't jumped on the eager-Spock bandwagon until they started noticing him walking the corridors carrying fabric swatches and card stock samples amid increasingly frequent visits to the greenhouse and botany lab Lieutenant Sulu maintained during his free time.

Though neither Jim nor Bones was really surprised, several crew members were in eavesdropping distance when the doctor nudged the captain and pointed as Spock emerged from Sulu's greenhouse carrying a length of tangerine silk under over one arm and tiger lilies in the opposite hand.

"Good God, Jim!" exclaimed McCoy. "She couldn't make him a man, so she's turning him into a woman!"

* * *

Lieutenant Uhura's mother, with Spock's help, was able to cross more items off a very long to-do list.

After spending several months' worth of hours speaking with her daughter's intended through sub-space transmissions, M'Umbha felt she had the half-Vulcan pretty well figured out. Much like Nyota, she was sometimes able to see beyond the blank masque the rest of the world thought his face to be.

"If I know anything, and I know a lot, what that boy needs is good mothering," she had been known to tell her husband. "His real tragedy wasn't losing his homeworld; it was losing Amanda Grayson."

As a xenopsychiatrist and the author of numerous pioneering studies into non-human psyches, Benjamin Uhura was inclined to agree; as a husband, father and impending father-in-law, he was equally inclined to advise his wife to butt out. Fears of either being drawn further into the plot, or of sleeping on the sofa for the foreseeable future convinced him to keep both of his inclinations to himself.

No matter how much he longed to see Commander Spock of Starfleet lying on the old-fashioned leather couch in his office, Doctor Uhura was a firm believer in the pitfalls of treating members of one's own family.

Damn, but it would have been glorious to be the first human to truly complete an in-depth exploration of the half-Vulcan mind as a psychological professional, he'd thought on more than one occasion.

Lately, though, it seemed as if he was coming close to getting his wish. For reasons known only to God and Nyota, his daughter had spent the last few weeks immersed in some mysterious project that had little or nothing to do with her duties on the Enterprise. Or with her wedding, for that matter. Dozens of transmissions with her uncle, Tabansi (on her mother's side, of course) — and the detritus of electronic equipment littering her quarters and office (according to Spock) — were the only clues about what she might be up to. She wasn't sharing with _anyone_. (Except, perhaps, with Tabansi.)

The unexpected result of his daughter's distraction was increased contact with her fiancé. M'Umbha had decided that if she couldn't plan their daughter's dream wedding with said daughter's input, the bridegroom was her next best choice. Surprisingly enough, Spock had agreed.

That is, the boy had agreed to try to corral Nyota into some form of participation in the planning. Since the half-Vulcan had been markedly unsuccessful in his endeavors over the past ten weeks, Benjamin sometimes got the chance to surreptitiously observe the unwitting subject of his scrutiny, while feigning interest as Spock and M'Umbha compared the merits of this flower over that blossom.

Benjamin had watched in awe as his wife convinced Spock that it would offensive for the young man to call her by any title other than "mama", and that she in turn had the right to address him by the Swahili word for son.

He walked into his wife's home office to find her chatting with the young officer again.

"Spock, you are so funny when you allow yourself to be," she was saying while laughing. "I can see why you make Nyota so happy. Her baba is just the same."

Benjamin usually recognized Spock's attempts at humor in a purely intellectual sense, but he had never actually been moved to laugh for the boy. Perhaps that was why his wife was always _Mama_, and he was usually _Doctor Uhura_.

M'Umbha tittered again. Their future son-in-law's lips turned up just the teeniest bit at the corners.

"I believe that it was other qualities that first drew your daughter to me, Mama," Spock informed her. He deliberately ignored the brief thought that this might be construed to imply his own sister had the hots for him. M'Umbha _insisted_ on the appellation. "However, her presence in my life has convinced me of the merits of humor."

_I'll just bet it has_, thought Benjamin.

"I'll just bet it has," said M'Umbha. "That girl was so headstrong, Baba and I had to laugh to keep from crying at times. Never have I met a more stubbornly focused woman."

_Other than the one you see in the mirror every morning_, Benjamin thought with a fond smile.

"Good morning, Doctor Uhura," Spock said in lieu of answering.

Benjamin nodded approvingly. On the few the occasions they'd been able to speak privately, the good doctor had tried to teach the younger man that sometimes it was best to hold one's silence or to employ to strategic deflection in the face cattiness in human females. Spock was a quick study.

"Benjamin," he corrected automatically. Not that it would do any good. Vulcans were notoriously set in their ways and this half-Vulcan was apparently no better. "What part of the wedding is my daughter ignoring _this_ week?"

M'Umbha turned in her chair to face her husband.

"Spock and I have just been going over the possibilities for the actual ceremony," she told him. "We'd hoped your daughter might express a preference for one tradition or another, but my mwana tells me she just buries her head in whatever it is she is building and says she'll be happy with whatever _he_ wants, so long as she is his wife at the end of the day."

Privately, Benjamin was entirely satisfied with this notion, but recognized that this was not like his careful daughter in any sense.

"Well, at least she has finally chosen a dress," he said lamely.

"No, she has not! Spock chose her colors three weeks ago and we agreed on a design only on Monday."

Benjamin frowned now. Today was Wednesday. The Enterprise would be arriving back at Earth's Spacedock in two weeks and four days. They really should have had plans for the solemnization settled long ago. Obviously, it was time he did more than just pretend to be involved in this wedding.

"I will tell you what," he said to both of them, "since the bride doesn't care, why don't I take care of this?"

Luckily for the otherwise occupied bride, they'd already decided to hold the wedding at the family home rather than in a religious house. Benjamin had cousins spanning the religious spectrum. He could handle this.

Pointing at Spock, he ordered, "You just make sure she shows up."

* * *

Usual disclaimer: I don't own _Star Trek_, any of the characters, the starship, Earth, or _My Fair Lady_


	3. Spruced up and Lookin' in Her Prime

**A/N:** Posted this chapter without my new beta looking it over. My dad _really_ wanted to read it.

Usual disclaimers about not owning anything.

* * *

Four days later, Kirk sauntered into the main science lab. He found his science officer holed up in a small office, surround by several bolts of clothe in varying shades of orange.

"Really, Mr. Spock," murmured the captain, "you should have informed me that you were planning to open a bridal shop in here."

He laughed and flung himself into the only chair in the room not supporting delicate orange fabric. "I know you're just dying to quote Starfleet regulation pertaining to personal commerce ventures aboard starships."

"Computer," Spock called without looking away from the display in front of him. "Save document CMGS to file SNTF2263 and transfer to my data PADD."

The document he'd been viewing disappeared from the screen. But not before Kirk got a good look.

"_The Complete Moron's Guide to Sewing_? Jeez, Spock. I was kidding about the bridal shop," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought old you found a high-speed dressmaker for you."

"It would seem the woman did not have time to finish, or even to begin, Lt. Uhura's wedding garments," Spock said.

He was in something of a quandary. Despite his best efforts, he'd still been unable to interest his betrothed in playing the part of bridal control freak. Surely this was not the same woman who had forced him to sit through endless hours of the 21st century "reality show" called _Bridezillas_.

At first, he'd thought she shared the program with him as an example of what not to do. She had quickly disabused him of that notion.

"I just want you to see how bad it can get," she'd told him. "That way, when I'm up to my ears in color swatches or crying my eyes out trying to choose between twelve different bridal bouquets, you'll know it could be so much worse. Plus, some of these women had really great ideas!"

The marathon airings had started a week after they'd decided to have a human wedding ceremony. They had ended three days later. Spock was reasonably certain there were many more hours of the program left unviewed, but he decided it was unnecessary to point this out.

Content as the commander was to go about his days and nights as usual, another three weeks had passed before he realized his betrothed hadn't mentioned the wedding again. From a woman who had never passed a market place, mall or _modiste_ she didn't wish to visit, this was disconcerting. From a woman who had taken notes while watching _Bridezillas_, this was frightening.

But now, with just three weeks to go before the big day, Spock had more important things to worry about than the state of Uhura's mental health.

Things like what she was going to wear to the marriage ceremony now that the Scalosian seamstress hired to make her gown had failed to meet him at the Enterprise's final station stop prior to reaching Earth. Instead of a nearly finished gown – designed to his and M'Umbha's specifications – and the services of a renowned dressmaker, he'd been left with several meters of fabric and a hasty note of apology.

Never mind that the woman from Scalos should have at least had the fabric cut and basted into something remotely resembling a dress by now, Spock calculated. Ambassador Spock had recommended the woman not only for her reputation for doing quality work, but because she could knock out a fully functional dress before you blink.

"Since there is insufficient time to search for and engage the services of a replacement," Spock continued, "I have decided to attempt to fabricate the articles myself."

"_You're_ making Uhura's wedding dress?" Kirk's incredulous voice rang throughout the small space.

"Captain," Spock spoke quietly, "I would appreciate a measure of discretion regarding this matter. I believe it is not the usual tradition of most Earth peoples for the bridegroom to create the bride's dress."

"Well, it's not exactly a _Vulcan_ tradition, either," countered the captain. "Is it?"

"No," Spock answered in his customarily dry tone. "I wish to avoid causing Nyota any embarrassment she might feel if knowledge of this were to become widespread."

Kirk smirked.

"I think it's more likely that you wish to avoid embarrassing yourself, commander."

Spock's face remained as placid as ever.

"I would feel little discomfiture should others learn that I was capable of creating an aesthetically pleasing article of clothing for my intended," he said. "Indeed, it's design is the result of a close collaboration between her mother and me."

His fingers slipped over a few buttons of the console's touch pad. He indicated the screen before him.

Standing, Kirk walked over for a closer look.

"Spock," he said, his tone losing its former irreverence, "_can_ you make this aesthetically pleasing article of clothing for your intended? It looks awfully complicated to me."

Spock looked up at his captain, then reached into his pocket to produce a crumpled bit of pumpkin and persimmon-colored brocade.

"I believe my talents lay in other areas," he said.

* * *

"Looks like this stuff is supposed to kind of loosely drape around her, uh, bosom," Kirk said, holding up an apricot-colored length of filmy cotton. "Going by your sketches, I'd say we need about four centimeters of give when it's stitched up. Is there going to be enough? Do you know how big she is there?"

He sat on a sofa in his personal quarter, opposite his first officer. A pile of textiles lay on the low table between them. A data PADD displaying several views of the dress, capturing it from all sides, lay in front of each man.

"I am familiar with Nyota's dimensions, Jim," Spock told him. "However, in the interest of scientific accuracy, I have enlisted the help of Dr. McCoy to acquire a more concrete measurement. I asked him to bring the results of her most recent examination here tonight."

Kirk snorted, staring at the PADD.

"I don't understand why you and Mrs. Uhura had to make it so fancy," he complained. "A nice simple sheath – easy to get on and easier to get off – would have been better on a lot of levels."

He looked at Spock and wiggled his eyebrows.

Spock raised an eyebrow of his own.

"I am also familiar with the mechanics of removing female clothing from – " Spock was interrupted as the door chimed.

"Come," said Kirk.

Leonard McCoy bustled in, nose buried in a data PADD.

"I've got the – what in Sam Hill... ?" The doctor had looked up from his PADD to the sight of the captain and first officer sitting among the detritus of the sewing trade. "Is this some kind of sewing bee?"

"Seamstress bailed. Spock and I are going to make the dress. We've only got three weeks," Kirk said.

"Two weeks," corrected Spock. "The dress must be ready by the time we reach Earth; unless you are offering to travel with us to Africa and sew hems up until the ceremony?"

McCoy glanced from one to the other.

"Either of you actually know how to sew?"

Spock indicated view-screen on the wall behind his chair.

"_The Complete Moron's_ – oh, for God's sake! Move over, Jim," McCoy said.

Kirk made room on the sofa, and McCoy plopped down next to him. Grabbing a PADD with the sketches, he frowned.

"Couldn't make it a sheath, could they?" the doctor muttered to himself. "Had the have the empire-waist, halter neck – who the hell thinks a beginner can handle the pleating on a chiffon halter? – and a full skirt?"

McCoy looked up.

"Which one of you yahoos thought a brocade skirt – a brocade _ballroom_ skirt – was a good idea with a chiffon bodice?" he demanded. "You know how much gathering that will take? Now, just think about rough seams rubbing up against that lovely skin. In the African heat. Especially if you two are doing the sewing."

Spock raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kirk.

Kirk's mouth hung slightly open.

"Bones, I didn't understand a word you just said," he told his friend.

"What?" McCoy snapped. "My mother's cousin was a tailor. Not everyone gets all their clothes at commerce centers. Or from Starfleet supply."

The last was directed at Spock who had quickly recovered from his own (hidden) surprise and now responded to McCoy's earlier question.

"I aided Lt. Uhura's mother in designing the gown," he explained. "We had engaged the services of a highly recommended dressmaker. As she is no longer available, the captain and I will attempt to make the dress ourselves."

Now it was McCoy's turn to snort.

"I think might be a little beyond you, despite your vigorous research." He waved a hand towards the view-screen and sighed. "I guess I know why you wanted me giving Ms. Uhura a check-up."

He began sifting through the pile of fabric.

"She'll be real beautiful in that dress, Mr. Spock. Even more gorgeous than usual," he said. "Now, which of these is gonna be the lining?"


	4. A Hymn to Her

**A/N**: Again, I'm posting this before my beta reads it. Thanks to everyone who helped with the last chapter so that she could enjoy her anniversary weekend and I could continue to get stuff out. Most of all, thanks to Daddy for asking for this story. (Who knew it'd be more popular than Then Comes Spock. Which I'll be updating in a couple of days, btw.)

Usual disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, the characters (except the ones I made up), a house, a car (since last summer), a dog, _My Fair Lady_, etc.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the communications center, Lt. Uhura was bent over her work station, fiddling with unidentifiable bits of equipment while chatting with her father on subspace transmissions.

"I know, Baba," she said, not looking up from her work, "but I'm almost done and I swear I'll make it up to Spock starting tonight. And Mama, of course."

Intent on whatever mystery object she was building, Uhura missed the look of discomfort that briefly crossed her father's face. She glanced up when he cleared his throat.

"I really am not interested in how you plan to make it up to boy," Benjamin told her. He looked a little flushed beneath his brown skin. "Your mother is another matter. She's getting out of control, _binti_."

Uhura flashed her father a grin. Famous in the world of mental health or not, sometimes he was still just a dad. While he'd spent years training himself to be the kind of sounding board (but with official credentials) many young women found in their mothers, now that his youngest daughter was all grown up and getting married, every once in a while, he shied away from the more candid kind of discussions they'd had in the past.

"Don't worry, Baba," she assured him. "I didn't plan on giving you details. And I plan to take care of Mama, too."

"See that you do," he said with mock gravity. "Do I tell you what I heard her telling your man the other day?"

Intrigued, Uhura abandoned her work for the time being, and focused all of her attention on her father.

"No," she said, her voice a little cautious. "What did she say?"

"She said that your recent reclusion and failure to work on the wedding is _my_ fault. She suggested that you and I are in cahoots to force poor Spock to spend more time with her. Undoubtedly, she thinks she is the perfect cure for him," he said. "Thankfully, she did not say as much."

Somewhat shocked and more than a little annoyed, Uhura frowned fiercely.

"Of all the… the…" she sputtered. "But that's ridiculous, Baba! You couldn't be in "cahoots" with anyone if you tried!"

Benjamin bit back a chuckle. This was turning into one of those moments where he had to laugh to keep from crying.

"I trust, binti, that you are implying that I am inherently honest," he said dryly, "and _not_ that you believe me lacking in sufficient intelligence to engage in subterfuge."

She grinned at his attempt at humor.

"Baba, sometimes you sound just like Spock," she said. "I thought you said he was spending all his time talking to Mama."

He smiled in return.

"Your mama has also noted the likeness," he confessed. "But, I did not say your man spends _all_ his time with your mother, binti. We have managed to get in some man-to-man time."

Then he changed tack before she could distract him further.

"Naturally, M'Umbha loves having a chance to mother the boy," he said, once again sounding grave. "It is she does not like being manipulated."

Suddenly, Uhura was serious again as well.

"But seriously, Baba, I haven't been trying to manipulate her. I've been too busy working on my… project," she said with a frown. "If you would just stand up to her when she goes off on her crazy flights of fancy instead of standing there looking meek and mild or mysterious and remote, she'd come to her senses much sooner!"

"Says the girl who marrying a Vulcan," he said pointedly. "To her father the famous psychiatrist."

This time her grin was a little rueful.

"It has been said that doctors make the worst patients," she teased. "Anyway, it's like you said, Mama relishes the chance to mother him. She's been dying to work her magic on him for the past five years."

"Yes." Benjamin agreed with his daughter, but had more to say. "And how long has Spock been waiting for you to work your magic on this wedding?"

"It hasn't been that long, Baba," she protested. The truth was, though, she'd been barely aware of the passage of time, these last few weeks.

"It's been eleven weeks since first promised to try to get you in line, binti," said her father.

"Oh," said Uhura, xenolinguist and lifelong student of languages. "Crap."

* * *

It was late before Uhura made it back to her own quarters. Most nights she found Spock there, usually this or that bit of wedding minutiae needed her opinion or approval before they retired. Usually, she rushed through the process, eager to get him into her bed and annoyed at any delay. Tonight, having promised Benjamin she would ease some of the burden off Spock's broad shoulders, she'd actually been looking forward to it all.

She was doomed to live in disappointment.

For tonight, anyway.

Sometime after ship's midnight, Uhura heard the door to her quarters whoosh open. She'd long since gone to bed (alone, damn it to hell!), but found sleep was elusive without Spock's warm body next to hers. She jumped out of bed and rushed through the darkness to her small common room.

"K'diwa," she said, a little breathlessly, "where have you been?"

"Lights," was all he had to said, "twenty-five percent."

Slowly, she walked over to where he stood, just inside the doorway. Grasping his elbows, she pulled first one then his other arm around her. Finally, she slid her arms up and over his shoulders and leaned her face against his chest.

"I have missed you," she whispered.

Breathing in the scent of him, Uhura felt her blood quicken. Nuzzling her cheek against the hard pectoral muscle beneath his uniform shirt, she let out a low purring sound and rasped her teeth against his neck. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth to flick at his ear.

"I have _really_ missed you tonight," she murmured.

Gently, Spock's hands came up to disengage her arms from their place on his person. Equally gently, he set her away from him.

"Nyota," he said, nearly sounding pained. "The day has been long and the night has been even longer."

She stiffened at the trace of emotion in his voice. Alarm prompted her to step back towards him, but he held up his hands, palms out and facing her. She halted.

"Nyota, Vulcans do not require as much rest as humans, but it has been a very long ten weeks –," he said.

"Eleven," she corrected without thinking her words through.

"It has been a very long _eleven_ weeks," he conceded, "and I am obviously not myself if I cannot even count time with anything resembling accuracy. I am tired, and in need of comfort. I am not fit for a night of carnal pleasures."

She looked at the shadows of fatigue sculpting his face, took in the way his hand hung limp at his sides rather that behind his back as usual. Bits of orange thread clung to his uniform. A bright red pincushion encircled his left wrist. A sudden rush of concern mixed with remorse threatened to overwhelm her.

"Of course, k'diwa, anything you want. Whatever you need."

Now he stepped into her open arms and wrapped his arm around her lithe body.

"Tonight," he whispered into her hair, "I need to be held. Is that acceptable? Will you just hold me tonight?"

As she led him to her bed a few moments later, she didn't think about the millions of women who had uttered the very same words in hundreds of thousands of bad Earth melodramas.


	5. Accustomed to Her Face

**A/N:** Sorry folks, this chapter is even less funny than the last one, but both were necessary. Hijinks to ensue in the next few chapters.

I'm beta-less again, so I'd welcome any input.

Usual disclaimers: I own nothing but the OCs, the order of the orders. Everything else belongs to Paramount & whoever holds the copyrights to _My Fair Lady_ and the lyrics to its songs.

* * *

Lt. Uhura woke up wrapped around a warm, lean body. The circumstances were unusual on many levels. First of all, she was far more accustomed to waking up with the arms attached to that body wrapped around _her_. Secondly, usually he was awake and watching her when she opened her eyes. Thirdly, neither one of them was naked. While this was as far a departure from standard circumstances s the other two – they didn't _always_ wake up naked when they woke up together – but in the absence of her usual reason for not engaging in intercourse, she was briefly confused to find herself clothed.

Memories of the night before came flooding back as she listened to his deep, even breathing. Renewal of remorse followed recollection, and she pulled herself closer to him, sliding her hand down his right side until his heart beat rapidly under her fingers. She closed her eyes.

"I'll do better soon, k'diwa." She followed her whispered promise with a kiss to the back of his neck.

He turned in her arms and reached out to stroke her cheek.

"I don't doubt it, beloved," he whispered back. "You have demonstrated, for as long as I have known you, an uncommon ability to achieve any goal you set for yourself."

He brushed her hair back from her face.

"I'll be waiting for you, Nyota."

* * *

Everything was going smoothly. In the days since McCoy had taken over Project Wedding Gown, the three men had made considerable progress in both their dressmaking skills and on the dress itself. The full brocaded skirt was finished and awaited only the completion of the bodice and the decoration McCoy had devised during one of their few all-nighters. It would add more time before the dress was ready for Lt. Uhura's fitting, but everyone – including M'Umbha Uhura – had agreed that it was the perfect final touch.

As promised, Lt. Uhura had stepped up her participation in the wedding planning. Her project was complete, so she had found the time to consult with her father about the ceremony. On occasion, she also found the time to enjoy a significantly less tired Spock.

The Enterprise was nine days away from arrival at Earth's space-dock. Kirk took advantage of the quiet time to call a conference with his first officer. Not long after the two disappeared into the captain's ready room, Dr. McCoy entered the bridge carrying a large dark case.

"Where're Stan and Ollie?" he asked the chief communications officer.

Chuckling, Uhura nodded to the closed doors of the ready room. As she watched him stride past the command chair, lugging the leather case, she wondered what was up. Not that she was worried – the captain had been in a good mood all morning – but Bones wasn't known for carrying excess baggage around the ship.

She made a note to ask Spock about it later, and got back to work scanning space.

* * *

On the other side of those doors, things got a lot less quiet very quickly.

McCoy's case lay open on the floor, spilling out an assortment of tailoring appurtenances. Amid the measuring tapes and scissors lay spools of orange thread and packets of tiny carved beads.

"Pay attention, Jim. This is important," Bones said with a groan. "The beading is our only acknowledgement to Spock's Vulcan side. And to Uhura's love of the language. We don't want to get it wrong. Now…"

Spock wasn't paying attention. He knelt on the floor, carefully folding the yards of apricot chiffon into neat miniature pleats. As he worked, he imagined the soft cotton taking shape from the lines of her body, caressing her skin. He nearly smiled as he smoothed out his latest pleat and aligned the edges of the fabric once more.

His usually alert Vulcan ears didn't hear the doctor moving to stand behind him, watching his progress over his shoulder.

"If you baste that in the center, at twenty-six centimeters on each side and again at the ends, we won't lose the pleats while you iron. It'll save a lot of time," McCoy told him.

Spock nodded and pulled a needle from the pincushion on his left wrist.

McCoy moved back to Kirk's side to watch as the captain threaded colored beads onto silken thread. Twenty minutes and several rows later, he was nodding his head in approval when the internal com chimed.

"Bridge to Captain," a disembodied but familiar voice announced.

"Kirk here," the captain replied. "What's going on, Uhura."

"We're being hailed, sir. It's a Vulcan starship. The Uzhau, sir," she explained.

Kirk exchanged a glance with Spock, who had been setting his pleats with an iron.

"We'll be with you in a moment, lieutenant. Kirk out," he said. He turned to his two companions and winked. "Guess Home Ec's done for now, boys. Commander, you come with me. Bones, see if you can correct any mistakes we made, but I don't expect this to take long."

Spock stood and walked to the doors with Kirk.

* * *

The forward view-screen showed one of the newly modified Vulcan starships.

"Open frequencies, lieutenant," Kirk ordered Uhura as he settled into the command chair.

The view-screen flicered, and the bridge crew were looking at the austere face of a Vulcan starship captain.

"Greetings, Captain Kirk. I am Captain Turev of the Uzhau. As we are also going to Earth, Ambassador Sarek has suggested that we travel together."

Kirk couldn't be sure, as he didn't have eyes in the back of his head, but he wondered his first officer might have flinched at the Vulcan captain's words. Well, it didn't matter, Kirk figured, Spock wasn't the captain. He felt his lips spread into the a broad grin. The Vulcan captain's face didn't change.

"That's an excellent idea, Captain Turev," he said. "Lieutenant Sulu, match speed with the Uzhau's current rate of travel."

The Vulcan captain interceded.

"That will be unnecessary, captain," he said. "We have no wish to impede your return to your home. We travel at your speed."

Kirk smiled again.

"Thank you, Captain Turev. We are eager to get home."

His Vulcan counterpart nodded his acknowledgement, just a minute inclination of his head.

"If there is nothing else, captain?" he asked.

"No, that will be all. Travel well," Kirk said.

"Live long and prosper, Captain Kirk," was all the Vulcan said before closing frequencies.

Kirk turned to check out the reactions of his first officer and chief communications officer. He was flashing the couple a cheeky grin when a sound caught his attention.

The doors to the ready room whooshed open again, and McCoy poked out his head.

"Damn it, Jim," growled the doctor, "I said cinnamon, cinnamon, cinnamon, rust, rust, cinnamon; not cinnamon, cinnamon, rust, cinnamon, rust, rust!"

* * *

The two ships journeyed together for another two days before further significant contact was made.

Jim Kirk had just left the ship's mess when Lt. Uhura tracked him down in a deserted corridor.

He grinned at her.

"No shadow tonight?" he asked, wiggling his brows. "I thought you two were making up for lost time."

"God, Jim! That is _so_ none of your business," she retorted hotly, and punched him in the arm.

She started, apparently suddenly aware of her actions, then hastily added, "Sir. That's so none of your business, sir."

For the first time, Kirk noticed her agitation. It had obviously been caused by something more than his suggestive eyebrows. His demeanor changed immediately.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he herded her into the nearest turbolift. As soon as the doors closed behind them, he thumbed the stop button.

"Is there something worrying you, Nyota?" This time, his voice was soft with concern.

Uhura knew Kirk was capable of great compassion; she just wasn't used to it being directed at her.

"Not really," she said, only half-lying. "Actually, I need to speak with my captain, not my buddy."

Kirk nodded his acceptance.

The usually über-confident communications officer rubbed nervous hands against her uniform skirt.

"Ambassador Sarek has requested a private audience with me aboard the Uzhau, sir," she said, her voice displaying a confidence the rest of her belied.

Kirk watched her thoughtfully. She stopped rubbing.

"Sir?"

"I'd say you need to speak with your captain and your buddy about this," he answered, and rubbed his own hands across his face. He dropped them at his sides to stare into her eyes. "Do you want to go."

She hesitated only a moment, her full confidence coming back and blooming in her eyes.

"Yes, sir," she said.

Kirk believed.

"Permission granted, lieutenant."

He thumbed the stop button again and Uhura moved to leave the lift. Kirk stopped her before she reached the doors.

"Nyota… be careful tonight. You and Spock – I know this sounds sappy, but you and Spock are meant to be. You know?"

Uhura nodded and smiled at her friend.

"I know Jim," she said.

* * *

Sarek and Uhura, both dressed dark, flowing Vulcan robes, stood alone together in a dimly-lit room, furnished only with two chairs set at an angle to each other. Something about the place reminded her of Leonard McCoy's favorite bolt-hole on the Enterprise. This room held none of the comfort that one had, but it was also a space meant for solitary contemplation, or one-on-one discussion.

With a graceful sweep of his hand, the Vulcan invited her to sit in one of the chairs behind him.

"Lt. Uhura, Starfleet and the Federation have already honored you for your role in mitigating the tragedy that befell Vulcan. It is past time that I added my own gratitude," he said, remaining on his feet and without turning to look at her. "Your willingness to intervene helped to afford my son the time he needed to get the High Council and Surak's katra to safety before the planet was completely consumed. In part, because of your actions, my people have been able to retain our way of life as we build a new society on a new world. For this, I thank you."

Somewhat taken aback, Uhura needed to protest. She'd always thought of her role in events five years prior as minimal. But this was the father of her betrothed and the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth; she chose her words carefully.

"Sir," she began, "while appreciate your words, I must protest the validity of their scope. I merely relayed to Captain Pike a transmission I intercepted completely accidentally. It was Cadet Kirk who correctly interpreted the implications of the transmission."

Sarek turned. His eyes met hers again at last.

"Lieutenant," he said, his voice as grave as Spock's usually was, "I believe modesty is a valued trait in humans. In this case, however, it is misplaced. Had you not lent your support to the words of the man who is now your captain, the Enterprise would have been destroyed with the rest of the Federation armada that responded to the false Vulcan distress call. My son would be dead. Everyone on board would have died and any chance of rebuilding Vulcan society as we knew it would have died with you."

Uhura did not protest. His logic was sound.

"Yes sir," she said.

The Vulcan inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"Belated gratitude is not the only thing that compelled me to seek and audience with you, lieutenant," he told her.

Uhura held her breath.

"In just over two Terran weeks, you shall marry my son in the tradition of my son and become his bond-mate in the tradition of Vulcan," he continued. "You may believe that I do not approve of Spock's decision to remain with Starfleet, and with you. At one time, both of these things were true."

Finally, Sarek sat in the chair next to hers.

"When Spock chose to attend Starfleet Academy instead of the Vulcan Academy of Science, I was… displeased. During his youth, my son experienced much discrimination because of his heritage. His acceptance into the Academy should have proved that the circumstances of his birth put him at no disadvantage. It did not, and he rightly chose a path that was more suited to his nature.

"Later, when he ended his betrothal to T'Pring, again, I disagreed with his decision. As you might imagine, it was not easy to find a mate for him. Prejudice was not limited to the Academy. His mother pointed out at the time, he would not have ended the bond if he there was not another he had chosen for himself. That knowledge did not change my convictions, as he could not have found a Vulcan woman for himself. I knew bonding himself to a non-Vulcan would ensure that he and any children of such a union would face further intolerance from within Vulcan society. I did not want this for him."

Ambassador Sarek stopped speaking. His gazed lingered on Uhura's face as she processed what he had said.

"I believe I understand your motives, sir," she said after a lengthy silence. "Spock has told me some of what he experienced on Vulcan. It cannot be what any father would choose for the child he loves."

Briefly, she wondered if she had overstepped by attaching emotional value to the ambassador's decision-making process.

"Indeed, lieutenant," he assured her, "you understand perfectly. And yet, it does not mean that my way was the correct way for Spock."

He paused again, giving her time absorb what he was saying.

"In the end, Lt. Uhura, my son chose you for the same reason I chose his mother," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "It is now my wish that you and Spock might find the same contentment I found with her."

He was telling her he'd loved his wife, Uhura realized. She didn't expect a more direct declaration; she was surprised she'd gotten as much as she had.

"Sir, are you telling me you approve of Spock and me?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.

"Yes, lieutenant," the ambassador replied. "I have come to realize that, as I know Amanda once told you, I could not have chosen better for him."


	6. Ding Dong the DoorBells Gonna Chime!

**A/N:** Just a short one at the end of a really busy day. More coming Wednesday.

Usual disclaimer: I don't anything Star Trek, I don't anything _My Fair Lady_. I just like giving the characters lives and new situation in chapters named after lyrics from show tunes.

* * *

Back on the Enterprise, things were also looking up. Spock, McCoy and Kirk were taking advantage of Uhura's absence to meet. With arrival at Earth looming, they needed to add the final touches to the wedding gown. Almost since Uhura had beamed over to the Uzhau , the three had been working furiously at huge rectangular table erected in Spock's quarters for the purpose.

As their needles dipped in and out their respective bits fabric, they traded war stories and gossip. At least Kirk and McCoy gossiped. And told tall tales of their many imagined conquests. While Spock was not an active participant in this ritual of human male bonding, he was surprised to note that he felt no discomfort as he listened intently.

"I should have known she was bad news the moment I walked in that bar," McCoy told them. "I mean what kind of woman wears with wool crepe tailored pants to honky-tonk in Mississippi? But it wasn't her feet that caught my eye, if you know what I mean."

Finally, Spock felt he could dive in.

"No, Len, what do you mean?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Was the 'honey' in question also wearing a top incongruent to her other garments, as well as to her environment?"

McCoy belted out a hardy laugh; Jim grinned like an idiot.

"I always knew you had to have sense of humor in there, you hobgoblin," he accused. "It sure as hell wasn't them ears that's got the delectable Ms. Uhura eating out of your hands."

Even Spock succumbed to the pull of a quarter-smile at the thought of his bride-to-be eating out of anyone's hands. Kirk grinned like an idiot.

"Actually, Bones, I remember this story." The captain's words put them all back on track. "You only told it about seven million times back at the Academy. I don't remember you ever mentioning her _shoes_ before, though."

While his friends smiled fondly at the memory, Spock once again applied his focus to attaching the completed bodice to the gown's full skirt. They'd taken the good doctor's advice and made it somewhat less voluminous. Still, even the more contoured design, which would fit closely in the front while flaring out into a train at the back, required a lot of gathers. Spock didn't want anything marring his beloved gorgeous skin (or his chances for a great wedding night, no doubt) so he took extra care to make his stitches neat and even, and his edges appeared nearly seamless.

"It was only March, but all she was wearing up there were two lace patches just big enough to cover what all the men in there wanted to see. She looked a damn fool and I could see her goose pimples from across the room, but I didn't care. Goosebumps can be mighty inviting to a warm-blooded – ."

A chime interrupted the story. The three men froze, then Spock rose to his feet and, laying the dress on his chair, stepped away from the table.

"Who?" he called.

"Lt. Sulu, sir," said Lt. Sulu's voice over the comm..

"Come," Spock told the voice as he walked towards the doors.

Kirk and McCoy both stashed their work in their laps, counting on the large table to conceal the night's activities.

The doors slid open, and Sulu almost ran Spock over and dropped his PADD as he bounced through the doorway.

"Man! I have the greatest – uh…" Sulu stopped short when caught sight of his captain and the ship's chief medical officer.

He looked curiously at Spock. When the commander didn't offer any explanations, he resumed speaking, in a rush to get it out and get the hell out. "That is, uh, sir. I, uh, I came to talk to you about that, uh, that… thing that we've been talking about. I've been thinking about the thing we agreed on already. I mean it's a great choice; a great… thing. But I think I may have a… a different… thing you'll like even better."

Spock inclined his head and led Sulu further into the room.

"Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy have also been assisting me in my preparations, Mr. Sulu," he told the nervous helmsman. "You may speak in front of them. Indeed, if it will allow you to speak _clearly_, I encourage you to do so."

Sulu stopped short again, and goggled for a second before moving to join the others.

"Oh. Okaaay," he said, not sure he was welcome to sit, but feeling a bit uncomfortable standing and staring back at the three pairs of eyes trained on him. He addressed his shoes, instead. "So, I know you decided on _Lilium michiganense_ weeks ago, and I have plenty for your needs if you still want to go in that direction."

Sulu caught movement and a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye. McCoy had taken up his work again as the lieutenant spoke. Now, he could see the doctor was holding a filmy length of tangerine-colored cloth, mounted on a small round embroidery frame.

Sulu leaned forward slightly. McCoy was shaping little stars into the fabric.

"You know how to embroider?"

McCoy's eyes met his.

"Nyota is Swahili for 'star'," he explained and turned his gaze back to his needlework. "Go on, though. You were saying wanted to pull a fast one on Mr. Spock. Thinking about switching up Ms. Uhura's bouquet, are you? Think you got something better'n the tiger lilies _he_ chose?"

Sulu grimaced at McCoy's version of things. He felt steel pool into his back, as he glared at the doctor.

"Michigan lilies, actually," he corrected him. "Some people call them tiger lilies, but these are more orange than yellow."

He glanced from Kirk to Spock to see if they were paying attention.

Kirk was frowning as he sewed tiny orange-brown beads onto a pale orange strip of silk. Spock was calmly sewing a strapless bodice in the same apricot hue to a skirt of pumpkin- and persimmon-colored brocade.

Sulu shook his head, then headed for the only open seat.

"Ever heard of _Lychnis chalcedonica_?" he said, swinging the chair around and straddling it.

When his query was met with three blank stares, his felt his lips slide into a satisfied grin. He ran his fingers over his PADD for a few seconds before placing the device on the table were everyone had a view of it. The display screen showed long leafy stalks topped by large bunches of small flowers in shades somewhere between the pumpkin and persimmon of dress.

"A lot of people call it the Maltese or Jerusalem Cross, others call it the Flower of Bristol," Sulu explained. "But my mom always called it Burning Love. If it won't interrupt the sewing bee, I'd like to bring over some samples."


	7. Don't Talk At All! Show Me!

**A/N:** Another short one.

* * *

Usual disclaimer: I don't anything Star Trek, I don't anything _My Fair Lady_. I just like giving the characters lives and new situation in chapters named after lyrics from show tunes.

"These are just inferior plants, of course," Sulu told the three-man sewing circle. "I wanted to save the best for the real deal, you know?"

Even made up of "inferior" blooms, Sulu's arrangement was gorgeous. The simple bouquet consisted of ten clusters of the deep orange Burning Love interspersed with five brighter colored Michigan lilies. He'd wrapped a piece of creamy-looking silk around the fuzzy stems and tied the whole thing with a green ribbon pulled from his trousers pockets.

"Because, I know she likes green, too," he explained. "And really, you don't want an all orange wedding."

Spock nodded.

"Indeed, the clothing Nyota's mother has selected for me incorporate several shades of green, as well as an off-white similar to that with which you have wrapped that most satisfactory bouquet," he told them.

Kirk paused his beading to stare at his first officer.

"Her _mother_ chose your wedding clothes?" he asked, clearly incredulous.

McCoy sneered over the nearly-finished veil.

"The three of us have spent the last I-don't-know-how-long making a god-damned _dress_ and you think it's weird that her mama's picked out his clothes?" he asked scathingly. "You're just not right, boy."

Then he turned to Sulu.

"And he," the doctor said, jabbing a finger at Spock, "_adores_ the flowers. He's just not comfortable enough around you to say so. Shoulda heard him while you were gone. He was using _contractions_."

The three humans all laughed at this. Even Spock couldn't help a _half_-smile from taking over his mouth, this time.

* * *

"How did you know?" Nyota Uhura asked her future father-in-law.

She'd hoped the visit to the Uzhau would be short, but now she found herself wanting to linger in the company of this man, who seemed so coldly serene, but whom she was beginning to realize was more like her k'diwa than she'd realized.

Sarek didn't answer right away.

"It is customary, among humans, for the host to provide a guest with refreshment," he said first. "Both Spock and Amanda spoke often of your predilection for sampling teas and tinctures unfamiliar to your palate. I have with me one that we have found grows abundantly on our new homeworld. I do not believe you tried it during either of your visits there. Will you share some with me tonight?"

Unsure of what else to say, Uhura simply nodded her assent.

With a gesture she didn't quite catch, he caused a table to rise from the floor between their chairs.

"It is, of course, Vulcan custom, that a guest prepares refreshment for his or her host," he said as he rose and walked over to a hidden cabinet and pulled out tea-making implements and a tray. "During my tenure as a diplomat, and during my marriage to Amanda Grayson, I learned to do many things that are not customary to Vulcans."

Before long, he returned to Uhura's side and placed his tray on the table. A small steaming pot and two tiny cups awaited their use.

"The tea must steep four point three minutes before it reaches its optimal brewing point," Sarek said as he took his seat again. "You wanted to know how I know what my wife said to you regarding your marriage to my son."

He paused again to regard the young woman he believed meant as much to his son as his wife had meant to him.

"Another thing I learned from my time with Amanda was that sharing information within a marriage – even things that may seem to be of no consequence – can significantly increase the joy the couple shares."

He leaned over to pour tea into each of the miniature cups, then gestured for her to take one. After she had complied, he picked up his own. They both faced forward, neither looking at the other as the steam flowed up to stroke their faces.

"My mate spoke of you often," Sarek of Vulcan told her. "Over the course of your acquaintance, she grew to love you, and told me so."

Her heart full from his revelations, Uhura waited to see if he would say more, but when he took a sip of his tea, she realized he had finished his explanation.

She also sipped and wondered at the explosion of deliciously spicy flavors dancing on her tongue. Vulcans did not generally care for spices, she thought vaguely. Most of her mind, however, was occupied with repeating Sarek's words over and over.

_Over the course of your acquaintance, she grew to love you_.

She sipped again.

_My mate spoke of you often_.

She sipped and sipped.

_I could not have chosen better for him_.

The tea was gone when she brought the cup to her lips again. She placed it on the tray then reached into a pocket of her Vulcan robes.

"Ambassador Sarek," she said, looking at him for first time since takin her tea cup. "I have something to show you."


	8. She ought to be in bed

By the time the Enterprise and the Uzhau docked a week later, the dress was done and Uhura was well on her way to cementing a new relationship with Sarek.

The majority of the crew headed planet-side to start their leave, while a small contingent remained on board for a short time to handle the trade-off with Starfleet dock crew for repairs and upgrades. Everyone was eager to get vacation plans underway. They had three months (minus a week or so for the skeleton crew remaining on board) off ship and they meant to enjoy as much as they could.

Kirk rounded up McCoy, Sulu, Scotty and Chekov and among them, they managed to drag Spock off to enjoy the bright lights of New York City.

A somewhat reluctant Christine Chapel, an enthusiastic Janice Rand, an out-of-mind-with-excitement Gaila and a coterie of female crew members accompanied Uhura to meet her sister in the same town for a combined bridal shower and hen night.

A fun, if exhausting, time was had by all.

* * *

Nyota Uhura woke the next morning to hot lips and a warm hand on her person. As she lay on her tummy, one smooth brown cheek pressed against the crisp pillow case with her own hands tucked under the pillow itself, lips brushed her other cheek. A hand had crept beneath her short sleep shirt and was tracing circles between her shoulder blades. She smiled into the lips that covered her own.

A low growl shuttered against her lips as the hand slid down to rest on her cotton-clad buttocks. Her smile widened to a grin when the growler's tongue brushed against her teeth.

And suddenly, her lips were bare. The hand was squeezing her ass.

"Wake up, beautiful Nyota." Spock murmured, his voice throaty with… something.

Uhura opened her eyes to meet her fiancé's. He lay on his side, facing her, his back to the late morning light pouring through the hotel room window. Dark and dilated with desire, his eyes bored into hers as he leaned in for another lingering kiss.

His hand moved down to her thigh, then back up to burrow beneath her panties. He squeezed once more, pulling her closer then growled again.

Smiling again, Uhura stretched against her half-Vulcan lover. She felt the evidence of what she'd heard in his voice.

"Good morning, k'diwa," she whispered, winding her arms around his neck. "Did you have fun last night?"

"Not as much fun as you will have today, beloved." He dipped his head for another kiss. This time his tongue made it past her teeth and the evidence became even more evident.

Much too soon, in Uhura's opinion (although, in fact, several delicious minute went by), Spock broke off the kiss and tugged at her briefs with both urgent hands.

At first, she found herself too stunned to move, instead she clung to his neck, her eyes wide with shock. Where was the usually graceful man who carefully peeled away her clothing, covering her with kisses as he unveiled her?

Spock growled in frustration and desire.

"Really, lieutenant," he said in almost-pouty tones, "I believe it would be beneficial if you were to assist me in removing all unnecessary barriers to the pleasure we both undoubtedly wish we were already experiencing."

She swallowed a chuckle and settled for another grin.

"Mmm, Spock," she murmured, wiggling her butt to allow him better purchase on her waistband. "What's gotten into you this morning?"

Spock deftly removed the offending underwear and tossed them over his shoulder. He slid and arm around her waist and shifted so that she was lying under him.

"A more appropriate query, lieutenant," he said in voice that made her shiver, "which I predict you will pose in approximately twenty-two point thirty-seven minutes, would be 'What, exactly, has gotten in _you?'_."

Uhura shook her head slightly, feeling a bit confused. Spock sounded almost… arrogant.

He pulled her up to a sitting position and reached for the hem of her sleep shirt.

"This, I believe is another unnecessary barrier," he said, then yanked the garment over her head and sent it flying.

Now she felt really confused.

"Uh, Spock…" She scooted back from him a little. "You're acting kind of – "

"Amorous?" he interrupted, following her and nipping at her neck. "Perhaps even… lusty?"

He leaned back and leered.

Before her disbelieving eyes, Spock's eyelids slid halfway down as his lips slid all the way up into a decidedly _lusty_ grin.

Uhura's blood ran cold. What the _hell_? she thought.

"Kirk!" she growled in answer to her own question, and leapt off the bed.

Gathering her fallen panties and nightshirt, she stormed over the desk and snatched up her communicator. She stabbed at a button as she yanked on the white cotton briefs single-handedly.

"Kirk!" she yelled. "Get your ass over here, right now!"

She dropped the communicator back on the desk. Turning towards the bed where Spock still grinned lazily, sexily – oh god, whatever! – she flung her sleep shirt over her head.

"You! Stay there!" she ordered the half-Vulcan.

She turned her back on him and marched across the room and through a common to the small foyer that blocked the doorway from view. The chimes sounded before she was halfway there. She stormed the rest of the way over.

The doors slid open to reveal a worried Jim Kirk.

"Uhura," he said breathlessly, trying to move past her. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

The concern on his face turned to confusion when she refused to stand aside.

"What the hell, Uhura?" he demanded, hands on hips. "You call me on emergency channels, screaming for my assistance, and now you won't even let me in the room?"

Uhura folded her own arms across her chest.

"I think I've had just about enough of your 'assistance' this morning," she told him.

"What the hell did you do to Spock?"

Kirk's mouth fell open to protest, but within seconds, he was fighting off a guilty smirk. Rather unsuccessfully.

"Nothing," he said, finally giving up the struggle. He leaned against the door jam. "You can't blame me for this one."

Uhura didn't bat an eye.

"Then who the hell am I supposed to blame?" she spat. "And what, exactly am I supposed to blame them for?"

Now Kirk looked guilty without the smirk.

"Um, we-ell," he hedged, "that would sort of be, uh, Chekov and Bones and, um, maybe a little bit... me."

"What. Did. You. Do?" she demanded through clenched teeth.

She was pretty sure her fiery glare should have burnt Kirk to a crisp by now, and didn't really think she would care if he started to get a little smoky. Expect, maybe, the spontaneous combustion could wait until he answered the damned question!

Obviously reading her mind, or coming close to doing so, Kirk stepped forward a little, his hands held up palms out in apology.

"Hey, it's not what you think," he told her. "Chekov didn't get to help with… well he didn't get to help Spock with something the rest of us – anyway! He was feeling left out and he wanted to do something for Spock. And for you! You, too. So he had this idea and he talked to Bones, and Bones figured out a way to do it, and… and I guess you've seen the results. And don't like it?"

Spock started singing from the bedroom.

If Uhura's glare could get any hotter, it did. Her teeth remained clenched.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"We gave him an inhibitions inhibitor," Kirk admitted, sinking back against the door frame.

"You gave him a…? What the hell is an 'inhibitions inhibitor?'" she asked, her arms falling to her sides and her glare softening about an iota.

Spock's voice got louder.

Kirk's grin was back instantaneously. Looking (and, no doubt, feeling) pretty smug, he folded his arms across his chest.

"Don't get your knickers in twist," he said, ogling everything her tiny sleep shirt didn't cover. "That's if you're wearing any knic–"

"Kirk!"

He held up placating hands again. The grin was back, though.

"Okay! Okay. It's just a little something synthesized from chocolate and, uh, aphrodisiacs," he said. "We thought you'd like the results. We thought you'd _really_ like the results. It was more a gift for you than Spock. I think."

She sighed and shook her head.

"You three idiots thought it was a good idea to give Spock chocolate _and_ aphrodisiacs, two days before we have to head out to Africa to get ready for our _wedding_? And Len agreed?"

Kirk tried to look sheepish. He failed.

"Well," he admitted, "he said it wouldn't hurt. And, technically, it was three days. We gave it to him as a sort of stag night gift. Sort of. But he totally knew what it was and what it was supposed to do. He didn't _have_ to save it for this morning. Like it's our fault the guy is faithful to you!"

"…and you want my body," came Spock's voice from behind Uhura, "come on baby let me kno-ow!"

Kirk choked back laughter.

"This isn't funny, Jim!"

Spock sang louder. "Nyota wants my body. 'Cause she thinks I'm sexy… "

Kirk doubled over, unable to hold back any longer.

"Seriously, Nyota," he managed after gaining a modicum of control. "Seriously, it won't hurt him, and it'll wear off in a few hours. I think you should just enjoy it while you can."

"Enjoy it? You turned my fiancé into a leering lounge lothario and you expect me to enjoy it?"

A small black piece of fabric landed on her head. Uhura frowned at Kirk again, and swiped Spock's boxers from her face.

"Oh god!" she hissed when she realized what she was holding.

"That is what you will be saying very soon, Nyota," Spock called out. His Vulcan hearing was apparently sufficient to follow the conversation even from the bedroom. Even over his own, surprising good, if corny, singing. "You will be saying it over and over as soon as you bring that sexy body back where it belongs!"

Uhura glanced back towards the bedroom, then back at Kirk.

"You'll pay for this one day," she promised her captain.

Kirk grinned.

"I think you'd better get back in there, before lover-boy wakes up the rest of the hotel, lieutenant," he informed her.

He pushed away from the door frame and started to turn away. Then he stopped and reached into his pocket.

"Oh, and Nyota…" he said pulling a small foil-wrapped object from his pocket. "We made one for you, too."

Uhura snatched the sex candy from his hand just before the doors closed in Kirk's face.

He remained standing in front of the door until a series of loud thumps and a muffled "Oh god!" convinced him it was time to head back to his own room. He whistled the entire way.

**

* * *

**

A/N:

Yes, I know this was an odd transition from the last chapter, but I did promise more funny. Not sure _this_ meets that promise, but it was funny in my head.

If you want to take a stab at writing what goes on behind Spock and Nyota's door, let me kno-ow.

OR

The big kids can tune in to Foxy Spocky.


	9. You Can Have It All and Not Get Hooked

**Disclaimer**: I own neither the characters nor the two publishing houses mentioned below. This is the good-girl version. See _Foxy Spocky_ for the dirty bits of this and the last chapter.

* * *

It was nearly six o'clock before Spock and Uhura Spock and Uhura headed down to the hotel dining room in search of a somewhat early dinner or a very late lunch. Not that either of them complaining, but nearly eight hours of chocolate-and-stimulant-infused… fun burned a lot of calories.

It was exhausting work, too, but Uhura was too hungry to feel tired and Spock was… well, Spock.

Uhura was feeling giddy and excitable. Spock, at last coming down off Chekov's "gift" presented a considerably calmer demeanor to the world.

She couldn't take two steps with wanting to skip, dance, twirl, _something_!

Spock silently calculated the amount of time they would lose in reaching their destination if she engaged in the celebratory footwork in which she do patently desired to engage.

Every few seconds, she glanced over and him and struggled to smother her you-know-why-I'm-so-happy grin.

Spock's inner Vulcan told him he should be appalled at such a blatant (to him, anyway) display of triumph. His inner guy told his inner Vulcan to shut up because he'd just etched a semi-permanent smile on his woman's face _and_ she'd signed up for a lifetime of more. Perhaps his system was not entirely clear of the gift, after all.

He glanced around the empty corridor and came to his second significant decision of the day.

"If you wish to leap about or spin around or dance, _even_," he told her, still looking ahead, "now would be the most opportune time. As long as you do so while continuing to move forward in the direction we are currently traveling, I calculate that we will only lose ten point three seconds of travel time."

With a nearly inaudible shriek, Uhura jumped up, spun around, shuffled her feet a few times, and then turned cartwheels the rest of the way down the corridor. She arrived at the lifts exactly four point two seconds ahead of Spock.

"My mistake, lieutenant," he said as he joined, his lips quirking up a teensy bit. "I did not take in account the possibility of gymnastic feats. It will not happen again."

He pushed the down button.

Neither was surprised to see find their crewmates huddled around a table, bickering over menus.

They briefly debated the merits of joining the others – Uhura knew she was still prone to the shit-eating grin and wasn't sure if she was up to the ribbing; Spock counseled that it might be better to get it over with before the men arrived in Africa just days after their own arrival and started the teasing _there_, in front of their guests, instead.

The decision was taken out of their hands when Scotty looked after stoutly declaring that roast beef with a side carrots, turnips and potatoes was a perfectly acceptable summer meal and looked up.

"I see our young lovers ha' decided to climb down the stairway from heaven, then!" he called out cheerfully. Of course the others all turned to stare, some hiding their amusement better than others.

Uhura felt her face reddening, but acquiesced when Scotty stood and pulled out a chair for her. Spock was right. Best to get it over with.

"Thanks, Scotty," she said, flashing brilliant teeth his way as she sat. There, she thought, let them think the smiles are for Mr. Scot!

Nobody was fooled by her attempt at smile transference. She heard a few snickers seep out from behind the menus that suddenly obscured her friends' faces once they'd greeted her and Spock.

"Ms. Uhura," began Chekov, "did you enjoy the gifts I had ma—?" He choked off his words when, clearly (Uhura suspected McCoy), someone kicked him under the table.

She chose to pretend she hadn't heard his unfinished question.

"What's good here, guys?" she asked, scanning the faces ringing the table. "I'm famished. Haven't eaten since the Rand and the others took me to dinner last night. We went to the oddest place— . """

"Och, lad!" Scotty interrupted, glaring at Spock. "Ye worked the girl long and hard, and

then ye didnae even _feed_ her?"

The titters behind the menus turned to chuckles as Spock took his seat and looked Scotty in the eye.

"I believe, Mr. Scott," he said calmly, "that I was the one who carried the larger workload today. I am also very hungry."

Guffaws spilled out all around as menus landed on the table. Spock snagged one and began studiously studying its contents. No, he most certainly had_ not_ eliminated the last of the stimulants from his system.

Uhura half wanted an anomaly to form under her seat, and figured Spock was feeling even worse. Instead of turning disappearing into the space-time continuum, however, she opted to embrace her sense of humor.

She winked at Scotty, and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"What's that for?" he asked, puffing himself up and grinning.

"For telling Spock about bath oils and scented candles," she told him, her voice sugary sweet. "I had no idea you were so practiced in the arts of romance."

Scotty waved her gratitude away with mock modesty.

"Hush now, lass I cannae be taking all the credit for that," he admitted, waving hand in front of his face and pretending to blush. "I learned all about it reading the Mills and Boon and the Harlequins. They really know how a girl wants to be treated, ye ken?"

It took Scotty a moment to realize that the silence at the table was due to four pairs of stunned eyes (Chekov had never heard of Mills & Boon or of Harlequin; Spock was simply grateful to be out of the limelight) were trained on him.

With a sinking feeling, Scotty realized that Uhura, Sulu, Kirk and McCoy all knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Hey now, it got awful boring on Delta Vega, what with just Keenser for company!"

Uhura picked up Scotty's fallen menu, opened it, and leaned closer to Spock.

"What do you feel like eating?" she asked him.

"The vegan lasagna has a sufficient balance of carbohydrates, protein and vegetables to help restore that which I lost during the day's endeavors," he said.

No one bothered to laugh this time. They were all, no doubt, still in shock over Mr. Scott's revelation.

Uhura and Spock closed their menus and began looking around for a server.

"Usually, I really like these old-fashioned places with real kitchens and real wait staff, but I'm starving," she commented to no one in particular.

Which was a good thing, because no one was really paying attention to her.

"So, you mean, you actually _bought_ them and read them and everything?" Kirk was asking Scotty. "You weren't a little, uh, embarrassed buying fem-books?"

"Nae, captain," Scotty assured him, already over his embarrassment. "Truth be told, I was readin' them long before they sent my arse to Delta Vega. Ye'd nae believe how much the women love it when they see that stuff in yer readin' files. Makes them think yer _tryin'_ to understand them."

"Really," Kirk said, musingly. "And they don't get turned off because its, you know, girly?"

"Hell no!" Sulu jumped in. "They _love_ that stuff. It's like, if you're man enough to be comfortable with your feminine side, they're all over that." The helmsman let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "I mean, I grow _flowers_, captain. Flowers! Has only helped my game."

Kirk rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his attention turned inward.

"Hmm," was all he said in response.

McCoy felt duty-bound to add his opinion to the pot.

"Now, don't you listen to those two dogs, Jim!" He shot a glare, first at Scotty, then at Sulu. He shook his head at Chekov, who'd pulled out a PADD and appeared to be taking notes. "You get into a enough messes just being yourself. No need to play the game these two have already perfected. It's best if every man has his own angle. Now, I like to start with a story about bourbon."

"Speaking of girls," Uhura said, trying to change the subject. "Where are _my_ girls?"

"Meeting us for drinks later," McCoy answered before launching back into his methods. "Speaking of drinks, I've found that bourbon can be one of the best ways to identify of a certain type appealing lady. A woman who knows her bourbon is…"

Uhura tuned them out and continued to search for their waitress. She sighed gratefully when Spock spotted one and waved her over.

"K'diwa," she whispered in his ear as she watched the young woman approach their table, "did you really think it was a good idea taking relationship advice from these four?"

The eyebrow rose again.

"I didn't take advice from them, _beloved_," he told her.

The waitress arrived and everyone placed their orders. Kirk checked out her ass as she walked away.

Scotty and company went back to debating pick-up strategies. Chekov took more notes. Spock resumed his private conversation with Uhura.

"I simply accepted a nuptial gift from Ensign Chekov," he insisted. "Would you have had me refuse and hurt his feelings?"

She laughed aloud.

"I can't believe that's your excuse!"

His other eyebrow quirked up.

"Were you dissatisfied with the result?" he wanted to know.

Uhura gave his shoulder a hard nudge with her own.

"You're just saying that because you know I can't resist you when you're acting so confident," she said with a smile.

"Indeed, I did not know that," he countered. "I did not even begin to suspect such a thing might be possible before the events of this morning. I will, however, keep the information in mind."


	10. He'd Like To Meditate, Contemplate

Dinner was a leisurely affair, peppered with good-natured teasing divided equally between Spock and Scotty.

Spock ignored the mildly suggestive barbs thrown his way and concentrated, first on eating his food, and second on not reacting to the hand that kept drifting from Uhura's place at the table to his lap.

Scotty continued to defend his penchant for traditionally female-oriented reading material, picking out passages from memory and regaling the group with tales of the conquests they'd helped him secure.

"Now, _Desert Sheikh of My Heart_was where I first learned the power of runnin' yer lady a bath with smelly oils, lads," he explained. "Ye see, Mary Chisolm didnae want to marry Dougal bin Moussad – his mother was Scots, ye ken – so he wooed her with simple things – _simple_things, lads – that she couldnae have found in the desert otherwise. That bin Moussad knew what he was about!"

He banged the table with his tumbler of whisky for emphasis.

Uhura ran her forefinger along Spock's thigh again.

Spock put down his utensils and turned to his fiancée.

"Lt. Uhura," he addressed her in his most placid tones. "It appears you still require rest. Do you wish to retire for a short interval before we join your sister and your friends for drinks?"

She gave him a slightly dreamy smile and nodded.

Spock stood and waited for her to do likewise.

She got up and gave their companions a cheerful wave.

"See you later, guys," she promised.

Spock aimed a curt nod at the table, waved Uhura ahead of him then turned to leave.

They were halfway across the dining room when he detected a series of snickers and chuckles emanating from the direction of the table they'd just left.

They were at the exit when he distinctly heard a voice say, "Rest my arse! Poor Miss Uhura will be worn out for a month!"

Damned superior Vulcan hearing.

* * *

Uhura didn't think for a moment that Spock had led out of the dining room for a repeat performance.

"Nyota," he said rather gravely, as they stepped off the lift into their own corridor, "I hope you did not think that I suggested we retire so that we might resume the activities of this morning and afternoon."

She gave his stern countenance a quick look.

"The thought never crossed my mind, Spock," she said, making no attempt to hide her grin.

His eyebrow shot up. Again.

"Your behavior at the table might have been construed otherwise," he said carefully. While he recognized they currently lacked sufficient time to engage in a repeat performance, he didn't want to limit any chances of it happening in the near future. "Forgive me if I–."

"We don't have enough time for a repeat performance," she told him with a shrug. They reached the door to their room, and she continued while entering the access code, "My sister will and the others will be back by nine. There's no way two hours would be enough."

She opened the door and stepped into the foyer.

Spock followed and, with a hand on her elbow, stopped her when she would have continued on into the sitting room.

"Two hours _could_ be sufficient, if you wish it to be," he said his face perfectly serious. "It was Ensign Chekov's gift that led to the extraordinary events of today. However, I was being quite honest when observed that you were likely in need of more rest."

Uhura vacillated between wanting to burst out laughing and wanting to kiss him. In the end, she split the difference. Cupping his cheek, she placed a kiss against the warm skin and chuckled softly.

"Baby, as much as I enjoyed seeing you under the influence of Chekov's love potion," she told him, "I _love_ you as you are. And I would prefer to keep you like this. And right now, you're right; I really need a nap."

They both moved towards the bedroom doorway.

"So, you are saying that you would rather we didn't experiment with the gift again?" he asked.

She thought about it for moment or two. It had been fun to laugh and tease. To just feel for herself and not know what was coming next because _he_ knew what she wanted even before she was fully aware of her desires.

"Well, I don't know about that," she said eventually. "It was… different. Still great, just different. It was wonderful to see you let go of your control without worrying about hurting me. I really liked _that_ part."

When she didn't continue, Spock tilted his head into a posture that said, "But… ?" as clearly as if he'd shouted the word. At least, it was that clear to Uhura.

"But, as fun as it was, in the end you were just you and I was just me," she explained, feeling as if she were making a confession. "I mean were joined physically, but… ."

Understanding dawned and Spock stepped forward and leaned towards her.

"Once we are bonded," he whispered into her ear, "we will always share thoughts and feelings when we join. Even if one of us consumes the ensign's gift.

Uhura frowned.

"Always?" she said. "You're sure of this?"

There was no way he could be certain, she thought. Not when he'd only tried the gift this once. Not when he'd never completed the mating bond before.

"I'm sure, Nyota," Spock to her, "because once you are my mate, I will let _nothing_ keep me from you when we join."

At that, a slow smile lit her face. It was a full-on grin when she suddenly turned and danced into the bedroom.

As she walked through the door way, she looked over her shoulder at him.

"That's great news, but I'm still going to take a nap!"

Spock allowed himself a tiny almost-smile and made a mental note to find the second silvery ball before they left the hotel.

* * *

The four gorgeous women paid no attention to the heads that turned their way as they across the hotel lobby carrying a multitude of shopping bags. Actually, they were too engrossed in their chatter about men and drinking and the appropriate attire to wear to a summer wedding in Africa to even notice the men, and women, left practically drooling in their wake.

The tall, slender, brown one and short green redhead led the way to the bank of lifts, laughing and nudging each other like the old friends they weren't. One of the pale blondes grinned at their hoydenish behavior, while the other one followed along with a quiet smile.

"You were amazing!" Gaila exclaimed as her companion shuffled her bags to jab a lift button. "I thought I could shop, but you're a _demon_ at finding crazy bargains."

Upenda Uhura was in a great mood. She really liked her little sister's friends.

"Who do you think taught Nyota?" she asked with another chuckle.

"Gods, you'd never have known she had it in her back at the Academy," Gaila told her. "I was blown away the first we ended up in marketplace together after we got Enterprise. She was almost as good as me!"

Rand let out a hearty laugh.

"She's so serious and all when she's working, but let anywhere near a mercantile exchange and suddenly you're dealing with a completely different woman," she said. "I love it!"

The lift doors opened to an empty car and the women piled in with their booty.

They exited on the seventeenth floor, laughing and sharing stories about the many sides of Nyota Uhura until they reached Suite 1701 and Upenda pressed the door chime. The women were still choking back giggles when the door slip open.

"Evenin' ladies," McCoy said by way of greeting. "You're right on time."

The good doctor stood aside and indicated they should enter with a gentlemanly wave hand of his hand.

Upenda and Gaila were nearly knocked off their feet when Kirk came bouncing over to greet them.

"Did you find it?" he asked, his voice bubbling over with excitement. He was grinning like an idiot and practically bouncing up and down.

"Good evening to you, too, Jim," Upenda said as she walked around him and into the suite's large sitting room.

Gaila shook her head and Rand laughed as they passed him as well.

Chapel stopped and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We've got it," she assured him. "Upenda can get anything. _Any_thing." She stared after her rival's sister with a look longing formerly reserved for Spock.

Kirk and McCoy exchanged glances, but neither said a word.

* * *

The happy couple let themselves into Suite 1701 when no one answered the door chimes.

Spock hazarded a guess that the loudish 1970s music and the buzz of several different conversations might have been the reason nobody had noticed their arrival. The party was already in full swing.

McCoy and Upenda shared a low bench, heads bent together as they held up half-full low balls to task lamp.

Kirk was sitting on a sofa, one arm around Gaila and the other around Rand. He appeared to be talking without taking any breaks to breath.

Scotty and Chapel stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows. He speaking earnestly and pointing out something on the PADD held, but she was looking wistfully over at the bourbon bench and clearly was missing most of what he was saying.

Chekov sat in an arm chair, clutching a PADD of his own, on which he appeared to be taking notes.

Spock cleared his throat.

Seven heads snapped up and over to them.

"_Tonight's the night,"_ a voice sang through the suite's sound system.

* * *

**A/N:**Had to split this chapter into two. Second half will follow later tonight. Blame my slow progress on outtabreath, TalesFromTheSpockSide and StarTrekFanWriter. Every time I'm supposed to be editing this story, one (or all) of those three posts a must-read chapter or story. Really, it's all their faults.

Some of you may have noticed that I recently resurrected Gaila. You can blame outtabreath for that, as well. My Gaila is just a somewhat watered down version of the one featured in outtabreath's Dr. Flenderson series.

Usual disclaimer: I only own Upenda *snicker*, sort of.


	11. Free From Humanity's Mad Inhuman Noise

Uhura was still doubled over laughing and Spock was still managing to look completely unaffected when Sulu's noisy arrival smacked everyone else out of their guilt-induced stupors.

"What did I miss?" the handsome helmsman asked as he walked passed Spock and Uhura to hand McCoy a sealed garment bag. At Upenda's raised eyebrows, he gave a small nod.

Rod Stewart sang, "_Just let your inhibitions run wild._"

Sulu erupted into laughter.

"Oh my – Omigod!" he sputtered. "You guys, that's just wrong!"

Sheepish grins abounded. But, soon enough, (almost) everyone was greeting the couple and offering up refreshments and generally settling back into big-kid-party mode. Chekov's eyes darted from person to person as his stylus flew over his PADD.

Upenda made her way over to Spock after Uhura got dragged into a show-and-tell with Gaila, Rand and Chapel. She offered him her cheek and, dutifully, he kissed it.

"It's not that I don't respect Vulcan culture, _kaka_," she told him. "But in just a few days, you'll have aunties and cousins surrounding you, expecting you to pay them proper respect, so I figure you might as well get used to it."

Spock gave the pretty woman who resembled a taller version of his love a slight bow.

"I understand perfectly, _dada_," he said. "Mama warned of what might be expected of me, in spite of her efforts to apprise your relatives of my situation." He flashed one of his almost-smiles. "She also assured me that in you I would likely find my most useful protector."

Upenda threw back her head and laughed.

"Oh Spock," she told him, "you are so much like my baba it's scary!"

For a moment, Spock was so vividly reminded of M'Umbha and of Nyota, he blinked. Then he allowed Upenda to take his elbow and lead over to Bones.

* * *

Nyota was trying not to glare at Gaila and Rand, who were trying not laugh as Chapel showed off the dress she'd chosen for the wedding.

"Upenda said it might get a little warm, but it's so gorgeous I just couldn't resist!" she told their small group while holding up a delicate wool crepe gown dyed a stunning green. "She said this was one of your favorite colors, so it's almost like I'm giving you another gift!"

This time, Gaila couldn't hold back a giggle, but somehow, she managed to make it seem as if she were laughing _with_ the pretty nurse, rather than at her. Damned Orion pheromones.

Uhura shot her former roommate a look.

"That's so sweet of you, Chris," she told Chapel. "It's almost exactly the same color as Gaila, so even if she got hit by a transport or something and couldn't make it to the ceremony, it'd be almost just like she was there anyway."

She leaned over and hugged Chapel, dress and all.

"Nyota, my dress!" exclaimed the blonde as she carefully extricated herself from Uhura's embrace. She began smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the green fabric.

Just out of her line of slight, Rand had turned bright red in her efforts not to mock the woman. Gaila stuck out her tongue at Uhura and offered Rand a wink.

* * *

Across the room, McCoy stood in front of the windows and was trying to get everyone's attention.

Spock and Uhura both drifted to the center of the room and stood together, but not touching.

"Pipe down everyone, and pay attention," he said. "And someone turn off the infernal _noise_ before the hobgoblin has an aneurysm." Obviously, he'd been doing more than just _examining_ bourbon with Upenda. He winked at Spock.

The Rod Stewart compilation died away, the other voices faded and he continued, "We're gathered here tonight to honor two of our crewmates" he inclined his head towards Upenda, "and siblings, who are either about to make the biggest mistake of their lives" he smiled, "or, as most of have no doubt is more likely the case, make the best decision in the universe."

Applause exploded throughout 1701's sitting room.

"Shut up!" McCoy snarled. Then, just because Bones is Bones, he smiled. "I ain't finished. And you'll probably never hear me say these words again, so listen close."

He paused to allow a few chuckles before continuing.

"I can't think of any two people more deserving of a loving partnership than Miss Nyota Uhura and Mr. Spock, here," he said, holding up his glass of booze. "And I've never seen so much love between two people as I see between them. They're best friends as well as lovers. They're ass over eyeballs, but also know that love doesn't last without compromise and patience and open eyes. These two have all of those things going for them, and I just want to say… watching them has been a lesson in how to do it right."

If anyone wondered how he could tell the notoriously stoic half-Vulcan was head-over-heels in love with his beautiful communications officer, they didn't ask. He was doctor, damn it! It was his job to notice these things. No one asked; instead, everyone just lifted their glasses and drank to Spock's and Uhura's love.

"I know some of you are wondering how I know the pointy-eared bastard loves the lovely lady, well, I'm a doctor, damn it. It's my job to notice these things. But if you're not quite convinced, I've got evidence aplenty."

He nodded to the huge vid-screen that dominated the wall directly across the windows. Everyone turned to look.

The screen lit up to reveal an image of Spock in his office, talking to M'Umbha via subspace transmission.

"You know a boy is in love when he takes it upon himself to get his wedding planned because his girl's too busy to help her momma."

The image switched to another of Spock, still in his office, this time surrounded by several bolts of fabric, in various shades of orange.

"You know a boy's in love when he doesn't give up, just because the damned seamstress doesn't do what she was hired to do," he announced. "Though, I gotta say, for someone who is as smart as he's supposed to be, it seems awful stupid to hire someone who his other self said attacked us in our other time."

A few titters sounded in the room as the image changed again. Spock and Kirk sat in Spock's quarters, staring at another vid-screen that displayed sewing lessons for morons.

"You gotta believe a guy's in love when he enlists the captain of his _starship_ to help him make the damned dress!"

This time, the laugher was long and loud.

"Hey," protested Kirk, "I _offered_ to help!"

A new image lit the screen. McCoy, Spock and Kirk sat at a table, working on a nearly finished dress and veil, while Sulu held up several orange and cream-colored flowers for their inspection.

"You know man loves his woman when he doesn't just buy her flowers, but has them grown, just for her," McCoy concluded. He stared at Uhura and Spock before turning to pick up the garment bag Sulu had delivered earlier.

Uhura eyes had already filled with tears and she'd unconsciously pressed a hand to her lips.

Everyone turned back to the doctor after the last picture faded and the screen darkened.

McCoy unzipped the bag and pulled out a vibrant confection in shades of orange and apricot. He held the dress aloft for everyone to see.

"See?" he asked when he knew he had everyone's attention. "Ain't no doubt it; Spock's in love."

* * *

**A/N:** Hope that wasn't too much sap for those of you expecting more funny. The sugar/spice ratio will be inverted in the next chapter.

I resisted my sleep-deprived urge to have Bones channel Evelyn "Champange" King and sing "I'm in Love." But look for the song later.

Once again, I don't own (most of) the characters, the starship or the music.


	12. Here We Are Together

The chief communications officer for the starship Enterprise found herself at a loss for words. It wasn't great for her career, but under the circumstances, her condition was understandable.

She moved towards McCoy, her steps hesitant.

"Oh," she said. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but in the profound silence, it was audible to all.

She reached out a hand towards her wedding gown, but quickly pulled it back to cover her mouth once more.

"Oh," she said again as the tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks. "Oh… _my_."

Suddenly filled with a desperate energy, she spun around to face her fiancé.

"You," she said, her voice shaking. She swung her gaze around the room 'til it rested on Kirk. "And… _you_. Oh my god."

She didn't register the indulgent smiles that were flickering across faces around the room. Her eyes, and her feet, were drawn back to McCoy and the dress he was holding.

And then she was laughing as she started moving forward again. She smiled broadly as she dashed the tears from her eyes and cheeks.

"I-I'm afraid to touch it," she told the doctor. "I'm afraid it's going to disappear or something."

"I can assure you, Nyota," began a deep voice coming from behind her, "it is very real. The captain and I still bear the injuries to prove it."

Everyone joined Uhura in laughter. Even Spock's lips quirked up in acknowledgment of his own teasing.

"How?" She had to know. "When?"

Spock tilted his head, considering her confusion.

"You were," he told her, "otherwise occupied."

She turned to look back at Kirk, still seated across the room, both Rand and Gaila flanking him one more.

"'_The Complete Moron's Guide to Sewing'_?" she asked.

The young starship captain offered her his signature sexy grin.

"Yeah well, if you'd seen Spock and me before Bones took over, you'd understand just how fitting the 'moron' part was."

Uhura spun around to face McCoy again.

"You too?" She was incredulous. "I didn't hear anything about _your_ involvement in this."

"What'd you think I was doing in Spock's quarters holding up fripperies for?" he grumbled, shaking the dress he still held. "I couldn't let those two ham-handed numbskulls ruin your big day."

She covered a grin with her hand.

"Oh, _Len_," she said. "Your grumpy old man act is doomed, you know? No one will ever fall for it after this."

More giggles and chuckles flowed through the room as Uhura walked over to wrap her arms around the handsome southerner.

"Pshaw," he said, folding his free arm around her waist. "Mind the dress, now, darlin'. Spock wasn't kiddin' about injuries. Those two couldn't sew their way into a potato sack when I found them. I'd hate to have start all over."

Uhura giggled against his shoulder, but then pushed away and faced her friends.

"How many of you knew about this?" she demanded. "Who knew and how the _hell_ did you keep quiet about it? I mean, _my_ Spock. _Sewing_?"

When only Sulu raised a hand, she found herself laughing again.

"Figures," she muttered with another shake of her head.

She focused on the only person who had been in on the secret without being part of it and beckoned him closer.

"Hikaru… did you really grow me flowers?" Her eyes were filling again, and her voice held the tiniest quaver.

Sulu obeyed, scratching the back of his head and mentally geared himself up for more crying communications officer.

"Yeah well," he admitted, ramping up the boyish for charm for all its worth, "I couldn't let the captain and company get all the glory, could I?"

He earned himself a huge smile and a kiss for that one.

"Gosh!" Uhura addressed the group once again. She let her eyes meet those of each person in the room. "I don't know what to say except 'Thank you _all_.' Every one of you has done something special for me, or for Spock," she winked at Chekov, "these past couple of months. I really have the best friends – the best _family_ – anyone could ask for. I hope you all know just how wonderful you are."

She felt Spock's Vulcan heat behind her once more. And then his hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back against him. She only just managed to hide her surprise at the public display of affection.

"I'm simply showing my support," he murmured in her ear before speaking out to their friends.

"I would also like to express my gratitude for everything you have done for the lieutenant and for me," he told them. "Her mother and I would have undoubtedly been too exhausted to attend the ceremony ourselves had our friends not stepped in to assist us. Whether you offered expertise" he nodded at McCoy, "or simply willing hands..."

That bit was directed at Kirk and elicited the desired laughter from everyone _but_ the captain, who called out, "Yeah, hands willing to _bleed_ for you."

Spock continued as if there had been no interruption.

"Or the means to reduce… stress... "

Chekov turned bright red. Scotty nearly spit out his scotch.

"… all of your gifts have been most appreciated. We thank you."

Seconds went by before anyone realized the half-Vulcan had finished his speech and the applause broke out again.

With Upenda's help, McCoy carefully packed the dress back into its bag. Chekov put down his PADD for the first time that evening and went in search of a drink.

The couple split up, taking the time to thank their friends individually. Entering and leaving the various conversations going on around the room, Spock overheard snippets like "mantrap" and "naked" that had his right eyebrow working overtime. Uhura bristled briefly when she thought Scotty was waxing lyrical about a "dark beauty" singing love songs at Spock.

And later the two walked back down the corridor to their own room, hand-in-hand, awash in the good feelings of family and friendship and love.

* * *

**A/N:** Times winding down folks. I've budgeted only three more chapters 'til dum-dum-de-dum, but I might squeeze it into two.

The first five chapters of Ladies Night (formerly called Hen Night) are posted for those of you who feel sorry for Chapel and/or want to know what happened during Uhura's bachelorette celebrations.

Usual disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, I don't own any of the music referenced, I'm not sleeping with Spock or with Bones on the side, though I'd take either one.

Should have noted earlier: I hate shopping and most things girlie, so forgive me if you think my clothing descriptions have been lacking.


	13. On The Street Where You Live

Spock was surprised and somewhat perplexed to feel Nyota Uhura's grip around his fingers tighten almost painfully as they descended towards the transport station in Garissa District, seventy-five kilometers outside its capital city. He was certain, had she been Vulcan, that he would have lost the use of his hand. Of greater concern, however, were the erratic emotions he sensed through the mild link.

He felt her _excitement_ wrapped around _anticipation_ threaded with _fear_ on top of _uncertainty_.

He covered both of their hands with his other one and projected comfort and reassurance through the link. During his single previous visit to her homeland and family, he'd only sensed her joy and her love for the people they would be seeing.

"You are nervous, beloved?"

She glanced at him, a rueful smile on her face and relief flooding the link.

"I was. I am. Just a bit," she said. "Sorry about the fingers." She ducked down to press a kiss to his hand – the wrong hand – but he understood the sentiment.

"It's unlikely that a human female of your stature unintentionally do my fingers lasting harm, Nyota," he told her, his deep gently teasing. "Please tell me why you are so unsettled. You were not nervous during our last visit."

She squeezed his fingers again, this time without attempting to amputate them, and smiled a much happier smile.

"Last time our wedding wasn't a couple of days away."

Spock frowned. Not a near-frown. Not a slight down-turn of his lips. His brow furrowed, his eyes darkened and there was a _major_ down-turning of his deliciously sculpted lips. Images of the women from the twenty-first century "reality television" program Nyota had insisted he view all those months ago resurfaced. He could feel real dread swishing around his stomach and he fought to keep from projecting the feeling through the link.

When he spoke again, his voice was strained.

"I do not understand, Nyota," he fervently whispered. "I did not sense that you were unhappy with the idea of marrying me. I sense no reduction in your love for me. Surely it is not the time constraints that have you so disturbed. Mama and I completed the most significant preparations some time ago. Dr. Uhura has secured us a celebrant for the ceremony. What are you afraid of?"

His beloved laughed.

It wasn't a quiet chuckle or a girlish giggle.

Nyota Uhura threw back her head and let out a loud roar of amusement.

Heads turned in their direction as other passengers tried to see what was going on. Many of them, seeing the beautiful young woman so full of joy and abandonment holding the hand of the handsome but oddly fearful-looking (_they had emotions after all!?!_) Vulcan, couldn't help offering the couple smiles of their own.

"Oh, Spock," Nyota gasped through the last of her laughter. "Oh Spock, I was just feeling a little overwhelmed, but you…" she started laughing again and it was while before she could continue, "you, k'diwa, are obviously afraid of _something_."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, insight filled her mind.

"Wait a sec, you didn't think I was going to suddenly become a _bridezilla_, did you?" she asked in mock-insulted voice. "Really, Spock, after all this time?"

It was the half-Vulcan's turn to offer a rueful grin.

"The thought did cross my mind," he said.

____________________________

Although Wangari Maathai's tree project had been extended even to the some of the areas which had formerly made up the North Eastern Province of Kenya, the Garissa District was hot, dry and, to eyes accustomed to more verdant landscapes, featured very little in the way of vegetation outside the city proper.

Once November would have been one of the city's most humid months of the year, but since several draughts and district-against-district disputes over water rights had reduced the flow of the Tana River through the city nearly a two centuries before, Garissa town had become more arid. Hydro-scientists at the Garissa Science Institute were famous for maintaining the careful balance between the city and the few large farms in the surrounding countryside. The weather was a somewhat comforting reminder of the home he no longer had.

After they'd collected their baggage, Spock scanned the orderly bustle of the terminal for his future in-laws, his height advantage making it likely that he would spot them, and they him, before Nyota. As it was, she saw her parents only seconds after he did.

Her face, once again reflecting the wealth of emotions, she stopped in her tracks. A hand flew to her mouth. Without saying anything, Spock took her other hand in his.

Together, they watched as a tall, regal woman, dressed in the loose robes favored in the region moved towards them. The man at her side, her equal in height, was similarly garbed.

___________________

M'Umbha Uhura stopped in front of her daughter. Her dark eyes swept Nyota's slight form from head to toe. She noted with approval that the younger woman had dressed for coming home. The floor-length light green dress had wide sleeves and was lightweight enough not be an encumbrance in Garissa's heat. The paler green mantle she wore over her shoulders could be raised for use as a veil to protect her from the sun. The image before her was a far cry from the little girl she'd sent off to the Academy. That Nyota had lived in either the impractical fashions her sister introduced her to, or in the tattered shorts and T-shirts she wore to run.

"Binti," M'Umbha whispered, "you have grown up. You look so beautiful."

Nyota moved forward and dropped Spock's hand to grasp both of her mother's.

"I'm so glad to be home, Mama," she said, tears streaming down her face. "I have missed you so much. And Baba, too! I'm sorry I've been so busy and the wedding and everything and leaving it all to you and Spock… ."

It was the most incoherent sentence Spock had ever heard her utter. She trailed off with a small sob just before M'Umbha clasped her to her chest and began stroking her hair and whispering soothing words through her own tears.

Benjamin, renowned psychiatrist or not, looked at his future son-in-law rather helplessly as the two women carried on.

Intuiting that an injection of humor might diffuse the danger of an emotional overload – another useful artifact of life with Uhura had been an increased ability to read human behavior and to meet (some) human emotional needs – Spock yielded to a perverse desire to shock his betrothed's father.

Stepping towards Dr. Uhura, Spock greeted the man with a near-smile.

"Baba," he said. "It is most pleasing to be in your presence again."

Then he enfolded the older man in a warm (literally) embrace.

Benjamin was no fool, and immediately recognized Spock's tactics. But he was perfectly willing to play the part if it meant preventing his women from dissolving into a puddle of tears in the transport terminal.

He stood stiffly in the arms of his daughter's fiancé for a moment before offering the young man a few awkward pats on the back. Behind him, he sensed M'Umbha and Nyota stilling. Their spirited exchange was silenced.

Spock released him and Benjamin turned to his wife and daughter.

"Binti," he sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at Nyota, "what have you done to the boy that he is giving out hugs like candy and calling your old father 'baba'?"

Nyota grinned. M'Umbha laughed.

Placing a hand on her husband's shoulder, she focused her gaze on Spock.

"Hush, husband," she said and slanted a fond smile at the half-Vulcan. "There is nothing wrong with the boy. He is simply proving that he Amanda Grayson's son."

Spock leaned forward and kissed M'Umbha's cheek.

____________________________

It was not a long trip from the terminal to the Uhura home. Less than fifteen minutes after their mid-morning arrival in Africa, the walls of the property were visible on the flat landscape. Twenty minutes after that, they were walking through the wide front doors.

It was all much as Spock remembered it to be. A mix of many architectural styles, the three-story antique-yellow structure had been built into a wide, low hill and was meant for enduring the hot climate.

The sunken, open-plan rectangular ground floor, where the family conducted most of its entertaining, was tiled in a myriad of colors. The weight of the upper stories was supported by intricately-carved columns. Windows were liberally spaced along three walls, though large French doors led out to a balcony on the northern end. Low chairs and benches littered the large space, placed strategically to capture any errant breezes that chose to slip through the room. An offshoot located at the south eastern corner housed the kitchen.

The second floor housed the many bedrooms required for the frequent and extended visits from the family and friends that Uhuras encouraged. The third story held home offices and several storage areas.

Upon arriving, Spock and Dr. Uhura had carried in the luggage while Nyota and her mother continued their animated discussion.

M'Umbha had taken charge of the garment bag containing the wedding dress before sending the men upstairs.

"You go with Benjamin, Spock," she'd ordered. "I must see this dress you have made for my baby."

Spock had greened slightly at the reference to his time spent as a "seamstress," but he and Nyota's father had done as they were bid, and taken the rest of the luggage upstairs to the sleeping quarters.

Now, half an hour later, with still no sign of either woman, Spock took advantage of the time remaining before the midday meal to explore. It would likely be his last opportunity to find solitude before the wedding. Guests would begin arriving in the morning. He let himself out a small door on the eastern side of the room, walked down a sloping path to the end of the house and turned left.

The grounds on the northern end of the house were several meters lower than the rest of the surrounding area. Fine specimens of _Acacia tortilis_ offered shelter from the intense sun. An underground irrigation system kept Benjamin's garden lush and beautiful. The sweet fragrance of chocolate daisies competed with lilac to scent the late morning air.

Spock sat on a small stone bench and contemplated his surrounding. His mother, he mused, would have loved this place. It was like an oasis in a desert, much like the small garden she had carved out of the Vulcan soil at their home. He had meant to bring her here.

Footsteps brought him out of his reverie. He looked up to see Benjamin walking towards him.

"This place you have made is as beautiful as I remembered it to be," he said when the other man stood before him.

Benjamin regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.

"Come with me, mwana," he said, indicating a small path through the stand of trees.

Spock walked beside him a short way. Neither spoke of the green plants or of the colorful flowers along the borders, though both enjoyed the sight of them.

When Benjamin stopped before the opening to a small walled off area, he gestured for Spock to precede him.

The half-Vulcan couldn't suppress a gasp when he saw what was inside.

"Your mother sent me holos and seeds," Benjamin told him. "It was a fine thing to discover that M'Umbha wasn't the only one with whom she shared a passion. Stay here as long as you like, mwana. Lunch isn't for another hour and our women will understand if you don't join us at the table."

Spock could only nod as his eyes fluttered over the replica of Amanda Grayson's garden. And then he heard Benjamin's footfalls fading away.

* * *

**A/N:** Check out my profile for more extensive notes on Uhura's parents, her ancestry and on why I have chosen Garissa as her home.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate, Dr. Wangari Maathai is, obviously, a real person. Her 2006 memoir _Unbowed_ is a fascinating read. Green Belt Movement Kenya is an NGO she founded in 1977 to increase forestation in Kenya. Another of her many causes improving women's lives.


	14. Without You

Spock began a closer inspection of the enclosed rectangular space after Benjamin's calculated retreat. He had little doubt the xenopsychiatrist had used the time they'd spent alone together to assess whether or not it would be appropriate to share this place with his future son-in-law. He was pleased to have passed the test.

He was not, as he supposed his father-in-law-to-be might have earlier feared, the least bit upset to suddenly find himself surrounded by specimens of the very flowers his mother had worked so hard to cultivate on Vulcan. Nor was he disturbed to see that the beds and paths had been laid in accordance with the plans of the original. It was comforting to see and smell the fruits of Amanda's hobby carried on at the home of his new family.

Spock was… touched, he decided, that Benjamin had done this for him.

On his third circuit of the space, he turned down a path he had not previously traversed. It led to a corner situated furthest from the garden entrance. Reaching the end of the path, he became aware of an enticing, and vaguely familiar scent.

The fragrance, carrying notes of lemongrass laid over cinnamon and vanilla, also held a faint hint of musk. The bushes were comprised of hardy-looking stems that were thick with leaves. Star-shaped blossoms, small and shaded a deep orange with brown centers nearly went unnoticed in the field of green.

"_I'm calling it 'Nyota beta.'" Amanda Grayson's eyes had been alight with joy as she'd presented her first satisfactory crop. "Maybe by the time your children are ready to graduate from the Academy, I'll have figured out how to grow bigger flowers." _

_She'd laughed at her own teasing. The rose-like plant was to have been a graduation present for Cadet Uhura. And, clearly, an expression of his mother's hopes for the future._

"_For now, though Spock. I couldn't wait to show them to you. I wish you could smell them and tell me if I got the scent right. I can't wait to see her face! Our girl won't mind that it's not the final version."_

Spock reached out and touched bloom that was no larger than the ones he'd seen in that transmission. He felt an incongruous happiness welling inside. Memories of his mother often brought on spates of sadness, but Nyota, his father and his elder counterpart had often counseled him to focus on the joyful moments she'd shared with him. His success rate in that endeavor had steadily increased over the last five years.

None of his previous recollections, he reflected now, could compare with this one. Of course, he wished she could be here to see him marry Nyota. That she could see that she had been right. That conversation had been the first time he'd realized Nyota had become her choice as much as she was becoming his.

He leaned over and inhaled the smell of his lover.

* * *

Nyota allowed herself to be bustled into her parents' bedroom and stripped of her green dress and mantle.

"Into the shower, darling, but don't take long!" her mother ordered.

Ten minutes later, she was standing on a low stool before a triple mirror.

The filmy veil covered her hair and caressed her shoulders before drifting down to flow with the skirt of the gown almost to the floor.

The chiffon bodice snuggly followed the curves of her breasts then disappeared around her back. A wide strip of beaded ribbon ran from the cleft between the two small mounds to trace a line along her clavicles before curving to wrap around her delicate neck.

The skirt, in deeper shades of orange, shimmered slightly as she tried to get a glimpse of how she looked from the rear.

M'Umbha stood just behind her, tears streaming down her face again.

"Oh, my little star," she murmured. "You see how much he loves you?"

Nyota grinned.

"_Mama_," she said, unable to stifle a bubble of laughter, "that's what Bones said last night. He already made me cry, so you can stop trying."

Playful now, M'Umbha swatted her daughter lightly on the arm.

"Dr. McCoy is a very wise man," she chuckled, playing at chastising her daughter. "You and Spock would do well to listen to him a little more often. If it wasn't for him, you'd be getting married in your uniform and Spock would still be a pincushion!"

Both women dissolved into peals of laughter until M'Umbha determined it was time for Nyota to change back into the clothes she'd been wearing upon her arrival.

"No need to be too fancy for lunch today. Benjamin no doubt has Spock out in the garden by now," she confided. "Heaven knows when they'll come back from there."

Nyota giggled.

"Poor Spock," she said as she slipped the dress back into its protective bag. "He can find a garden 'fascinating' of course, but Baba is almost as crazy about them as Amanda was."

She stopped what she was doing and sighed. Sinking down onto her parents' bed, she looked up and held her mother's eyes with her own.

"I wish she was here, Mama."

M'Umbha crossed the room to sit with her.

"So do I, little star," she said, slipping an arm around Nyota. "We all do. She always believed this would happen, you know?"

"I know she did, Mama."

Something about her tone made M'Umbha glanced sharply at her youngest child.

A secretive smile rested on Nyota lips.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I know this was a tease. Way short, and it wasn't funny. It's actually a completely new bit I've stuffed in between the original chapters because I felt as if something were missing.

Only serious silly (sprinkled with loved-up mush) from here on in. (Which might mean a while before I update because, switching between this and _Once/Future_ is hard, damn it!)


	15. Something in the Air

Meals with the Uhura family offered, as Spock had observed on several previous occasions, a fine opportunity to observe near-ideal human familial interaction. The back-and-forth between parents and child closely matched the examples Spock had seen in ancient Terran textbooks.

Benjamin and M'Umbha thoroughly questioned Nyota about her duties on the Enterprise and about her two and a half days New York City. Nyota responded with evasions and by offering only half-truths. In the case of their visit to New York, at least, Spock was grateful that she did not provide her mother and father with as full detail as she might have.

In spite of Dr. Uhura's assurances that the women would understand his actions, he hadn't lingered in the garden beyond the hour separating its revelation and luncheon. As had been his original plan, he joined his fiancée's family in time to consume the midday meal.

He listened while Nyota and her mother described the gown and its "perfect fit" to Dr. Uhura, using only the most glowing terms. His mind formed its own picture of how she must have appeared in the object which he, Jim and McCoy had dedicated so much careful labor, and was pleased with the result he imagined. So complete was his relaxation and comfort, he was unaware, at first, that he'd allowed himself a small smile at the vision of his bride walking towards him.

"And just what has you displaying the Vulcan version of a 'Cheshire grin,' mwana?" M'Umbha asked him.

Spock was immediately, almost painfully, snapped out of his reverie.

"I was simply imagining Nyota in her gown, Mama," he answered quite honestly.

His mother-in-law-to-be laughed gently, pleased with his response.

I could become accustomed to such a life, Spock thought, and found another, even wider, smile was taking control of his lips. He applied himself to his, most excellent, of course, meal in an attempt to hide his pleasure.

The ever perceptive Dr. Uhura shot him a questioning glance, and Spock realized further diversionary tactics were in order.

"Doctor," he said, after swallowing his mouthful of cucumber and tomato salad, "tell me, if you will, more of your acquaintance with my mother and her garden."

The sudden silence — the stilling of formerly clattering forks and the cessation of feminine chatter — was not at all what Spock had hoped to achieve.

Two pairs of eyes swung, first to him, and then to his future father-in-law.

________________

Dr. Benjamin Uhura was not by nature, nor by training, a talkative man. He had been born with a desire to seek out information while asking the barest minimum of direct questions; preparation for his profession of choice had only furthered his ability to glean facts from quiet observation.

In the face of one young man's clear discomfort at being the center of attention, however, he rose to the occasion. Swallowing his own habitual, though not evident, shyness, Benjamin decided to tell his tale.

First, he glanced at his youngest child and offered her a sly, almost quirky, grin.

"Well," he began, "it all started the day, seven years ago when I received a communications request from Vulcan." He paused for effect, eyes alight with an unexpected merriness. Dr. Uhura was generally considered to be a very serious man.

"At first, when I realized that Lady Amanda Grayson had contacted me, I assumed that there had been a mistake. M'Umbha may have chosen to be known as 'Mrs. Uhura,' but she is more accurately styled Dr. Wakufunzi, or Dr. Uhura, as I am known, myself. I must say, much confusion has been avoided due to her choice, but on this day, I believed that your mother was not aware of these facts.

"Lady Amanda quickly disabused me of the notion, Spock," he said, though he addressed the entire group. Clearly, he was settling into the telling. "She was calling, she told me, not as linguist who wished to consult with a well-known colleague, but as a mother who needed to speak with a father."

Benjamin slanted what could only be deemed a _wicked_ grin across the table towards his daughter.

"I was quite perplexed about where she might be taking the conversation, so, you can imagine my surprise at her next words, which I will share with you momentarily. But first, I should explain something.

"Of course, I was aware that you, at one time, had been one of my Nyota's instructors, Spock, but I could not think of how that might connect to the communication in which I was currently engaged," he said, apparently digressing. "Briefly, I considered the notion that Lady Amanda might have sought me out to perform an evaluation of her son's mental state, but, as is my wont, I said nothing until she spoke further.

"I admit I nearly feel out of my chair when she continued.

"'Are you aware,' she asked me, 'that your daughter plans to marry my son one day? She has just told me of her intentions, but I didn't know if she'd already let you and your wife know.'"

Benjamin leaned away from the table and folded his hands over his still-taut belly. Spock noticed that Nyota's smooth brown cheeks had taken on a deeply reddish undertone.

"I, needless to say, had _not_ been aware of our little star's intentions, though Lady Amanda went on to assure me that the match was a good one. And after discussing the matter for another hour or so, I concluded that she was correct. We both decided that perhaps it would be best if we waited for Nyota to bring up the subject herself before we shared our news with other…" at this he bent significant looks on both Spock and M'Umbha "parties. We agreed to speak on a bi-weekly basis in order to track the progress of the relationship between our children. As their was often little to report, however – another six months had gone by before the girl even admitted her romantic _interest_ to her mother and me – at times we sought other topics on which to converse, and eventually discovered a mutual passion for gardening."

M'Umbha could no longer control herself. With a frown that was obviously forced onto her face to cover a smile, she swatted her husband on his arm.

"You mean to say you knew our baby was in love for _six months_ before she gave us a hint and you didn't _tell me_?"

Benjamin, proving that both his wife and elder daughter had been correct in comparing him to Spock, raised an eyebrow.

"I did not think that it was important to do so, my love," he said. "If I had received any intelligence on the matter beyond what our daughter had told Lady Amanda, I would certainly have informed you."

His wife scowled at him, but her eyes were full of laughter.

"And it never occurred to you to mention it at any time in the last six years, since we have _both_ been aware that the children were a couple?" she demanded.

Benjamin smiled at her.

"Of course it did, my love," he told her. "But I do not relish sleeping on the sofa, so suppressed all urges to come clean with you."

Nyota was choking with laughter, tears streaming down her face, when Spock reached for her hand. Yes, he told himself, I could become very accustomed to this life.

But Dr. Uhura was speaking again.

"In any case, once Amanda and I realized we both loved gardening, and that we both struggled with cultivating our plants in inhospitable environments, it was only a matter of time before we were sharing tips and seeds and cuttings.

"It was through that aspect of our friendship," he said, now focusing on Spock, his voice having lost the teasing tone it had featured during his bantering with M'Umbha " that I came to know her rose garden. She told me of Nyota's graduation gift and sent me samples in case I might have better success at increasing the size of the blooms than she had."

He looked down at his plate and reached out to stir its contents with his fork. When he looked up again, his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I am sorry I could not do as she wished, Spock."

Moved, awed, astonished that this quiet man could feel so much — for his daughter's lover, as well as for a woman he'd never met in person — Spock reached out and touched Benjamin's shoulder.

"Your apology is as unnecessary as it is illogical, Baba," he said. "You have given both Nyota and me a gift that would have otherwise been lost."

M'Umbha and Nyota were weeping at the exchange between the two men.

Neither Spock nor Benjamin believed embracing would provide enough comic relief to cause them to stop this time, so the two remained seated and uneasily resumed eating their meals.

"I hope it is some comfort for you to know, mwana," Benjamin told him, grimacing, "that Wakufunzi women usually only weep so frequently when in the presence of each other. You shouldn't fear that you'll be taking a watering can back to the Enterprise with you."

Spock's lips twisted into a somewhat pained half-grin.

"Indeed, Baba," Spock said.

* * *

**A/N:** I know this one is short, but I hope I'm bringing funny back. Wedding SOON. The boys and the rest of the Uhura and Wakufunzi families arrive tomorrow (their time) and hope to have it all edited and posted no later than Sunday night (my time).

If you're confused about why Spock is happy Uhura is pretty much lying to her parents (and if you're an adult) read _Foxy Spocky_. If you're a kid, please continue to wonder in vain.

Cheers!

Usual disclaimer about how Paramount owns Star Trek, the characters, the starship, etc


	16. My Heart Took Flight

"When, exactly, did you inform my mother of your intention to be my intended?" Spock asked.

He walked through the Amanda Garden, as Benjamin had named it, hands tucked behind his back. Early evening had brought little relief from the day's heat, and the warm air was heavy with the mingled fragrances of many varieties of roses. His eyes followed Uhura as she stopped to examine each variety of rose they passed.

"Oh, you know, a while ago," she said, bending to breath in the heady scent of a particularly large bloom in shades of lavender and cream. "Mm," she murmured. "It's almost like honey suckle."

"Seven years ago, you were just beginning to see me as a friend rather than an instructor, Nyota," he said, raising an eyebrow.

She turned to him, smiling.

"More like seven point four, actually," she said, stepping closer. "It was the summer after my second year at the Academy. And we were _already_ very good friends, whether you realized it or not."

He reached out and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, pulling her closer still.

"_I_ certainly considered _you_ a friend," he said. "One of my… dearest companions, even. I was not certain of your feelings, however. You continued to call me 'Lieutenant,' on occasion, for the next four months."

She grinned into his chest. A small giggle burbled out of her.

"You'd been 'Lieutenant Spock' to me for the past two years. It was a very sudden adjustment to think of you as just my Spock."

He wrapped his arms more fully around, trapping her arms at her sides, and squeezed.

"I was 'yours' already, then?" he asked. Amusement colored his voice.

"Of course you were, k'diwa," she replied matter-of-factly. "You were always mine, whether I realized it or not."

Spock refrained from replying to her most illogical statement.

___________________

"Oh Spock," whispered Uhura, "it's beautiful. And it smells divine."

She buried her face in a cluster of orange and brown flowers.

"They smell like you, Nyota," Spock murmured. "I described your scent to Mother and she attempted to replicate it in _Nyota beta_. While she was unable to achieve a satisfactory flower diameter, the fragrance is all that she hoped it would be."

Uhura straighten and looked up at him. The growing darkness couldn't hide the wonder in her eyes.

"It's… I-I'm so touched that she did for me, Spock," she said. "I mean, I knew she loved me. I knew that. But this is amazing. It must have taken so much time. And we only knew each other for… ."

Spock touched her face as her words trailed off.

"We are capable of doing what is amazing when we endeavor to please the ones we love," he told her. "Were you not the one who taught me that?"

* * *

**A/N:** Serious computer injury will be keeping me from posting from home for at least the next week. These short updates are just what I had on my work machine.

**Warning:** I will repost the (very) extended (about three or four times as long) version of this chapter once (if) I can access it again, so you might want to hold off on reviewing. (Maybe the title will tell you what the full chapter looks like.)

If you just can't wait to tell me how awesome of awful I am, I welcome PMs.

Obviously, I missed my Sunday deadline. Oops. Hope you're enjoying anyway.

Usual disclaimer: I don't own the characters, most of the chapter titles are songs or song lyrics I also don't own, etc., etc.


	17. With A Little Bit Of Luck!

"Romancing her in the moonlight, kaka?" Upenda asked when Spock and Uhura returned to the house. She and her parents were sitting in the ground floor great room, lounging in chairs near the south-facing windows.

Before her sister's fiancé could answer, she found herself with armful of Nyota.

"Dada! When did you get here?" the armful demanded.

Upenda laughed as she extricated herself from her exuberant little sister.

"Down, Ennie! You'd think you hadn't seen me last night," she teased. "I got here nearly an hour ago while Spock was 'showing you around his mother's garden.'" She winked outrageously at the half-Vulcan.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I assure you, dada," he told her, "this evening I was simply sharing Amanda's Garden with Nyota." He glanced over to Benjamin and M'Umbha. "There will be time enough for other… activities after the ceremonies the day after tomorrow."

Upenda choked back a laugh as she met her mother's gleaming eyes and her father's satisfied smile.

"Gods, family!" she exclaimed upon realizing she was the only one hiding her amusement. "What on Earth have you done to poor Spock? Less than twenty-four hours in your company and already he's making suggestive jokes?"

"On the contrary, dada," the man in question said, taking a seat next to his fiancée's sister, "it was while in _your_ presence that I learned the art of suggestive teasing."

She swatted him with a colorful cushion and the family settled down to enjoy one another's company.

________________________

Benjamin Uhura was feeling uncomfortable again. He wasn't sure he wanted to have the conversation he was about to begin with his son-in-law-to-be, but M'Umbha had been insistent, and, as Spock undoubtedly already knew, at times it was unwise to refuse a Wakufunzi woman.

The women had retired to Nyota's room to do whatever it was women did when preparing for a wedding. He could probably avoid having to say what his wife wanted him to say, asking the questions she wanted him to ask. But he was certain that if he chose that course, he would be spending the night sleeping on the couch in his home office. It was not quite as comfortable as the one he kept at work. He swallowed his apprehension as best he could and went for it.

"Mwana," he began, his voice almost steady, "I know something of Vulcan culture, and something of your experiences on your home planet."

Spock turned to him, a brow raised in curiosity, but did not speak.

Benjamin swallowed again.

"I realize that you are a grown man and have spent many years on Earth, where you have no doubt picked up some Terran habits," he said. "Please, mwana, interrupt me at any time if what I have to say is unnecessary." He was practically begging Spock to stop him and figured the young man was astute enough to be aware of this. "I'm sure your father has already had this conversation with you at some point, but my wife wanted to be certain that _someone_ spoke to you on the matter. Apparently, that someone is to be me if Ambassador Sarek has not already done so."

He was pretty sure that there was a half-grin on the half-Vulcan's face, but as they were standing outside on the dark terrace and Spock had turned back to look over the grounds, he couldn't be entirely certain. Swallowing a third time, he pressed on.

"In less than two days, you will be a married man." Benjamin felt his face heat. "I know that while Vulcan society does not forbid it, it does not encourage it, so there is a chance that you might be… you might not have… you might be inexperienced in that area."

Spock turned to face him again. "Indeed, baba," he said, "I have no experience at all in being a husband."

Benjamin _definitely_ detected a note of amusement in his voice. He sighed in relief at the younger man's teasing.

"Spock," he said, his voice completely assured this time, "Nyota's mother wants to make sure you can please her. In every way that a husband is supposed to please his wife. I am not the right person to speak to you about this, as I'm sure you realize. She is my _baby_. And while I also wish her to have a long and… _happy_ marriage with you, I would really prefer not to— ."

The half-human placed a hand on Benjamin's shoulder, stopping him mid-speech.

"Do not concern yourself on the matter, baba," he said. "_My_ _mother_ initiated a similar conversation with me, if the timing you gave is correct, very soon after Nyota declared she would marry me some day. I assure you, she will be _very_ happily married."

Benjamin decided not to think too much about the meaning behind Spock's words, and simply nodded.

Both men leaned forward to rest their forearms on the stone railing, and in nearly identical postures, continued to contemplate the night.

________________________

"How are you going to wear it for the ceremony?" M'Umbha asked her youngest child.

Uhura leaned back against her mother's generous bosom and sighed. She stared at their reflection in the vanity mirror. Her mother's hands were buried in her long thick hair, gently massaging.

"I don't know, Mama," she said. "It'll mostly be covered by the veil, so however we do it, it's will have look nice with that."

"Well, if you still plan to cut it off when you go back to the Enterprise," Upenda chimed in from where she lay sprawled on her little sister's bed, "you should do something spectacular with it now. You won't be covered in a veil the _whole_ time."

M'Umbha's fingers stopped caressing her daughter's head and she began pulling strands through her fingers.

"I'm not convinced you should cut it _all_ off when you return to your starship, binti," she told her daughter. "Perhaps just a little cut, leaving enough so that you can put it up into a bun so that it's out of your way when you need it to be… "

Upenda popped up into a sitting position. "Yeah!" she said, excitement washing through her voice. "That way, if you'll still have choices if you need them. And a bun will work nicely on those pesky away missions."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Those 'pesky away missions' will probably be getting a lot more serious now that Command is convinced Kirk knows what he's doing. I don't think they'll be sending us out on many more milk runs this time around. They've already wasted five years because they thought the flagship's crew was too green to handle anything real." She grimaced at the memory of the boring assignments she'd and her colleagues had out up with.

Her sister got up from the bed and walked over to stand beside their mother.

"Well, talking about dangerous missions and how much you're looking forward to them isn't really putting me in a wedding kind of mood," she said. "I've got some ideas for that hair of yours. Let's play!"

The women all met eyes in the mirror. Three near-identical smiles spread across their faces as they got down to women's work.

* * *

Aunties and uncles and cousins and a whole host of other connections began arriving the next morning.

Benjamin and Spock did most of the greeting as the Uhura women were still worn out from their late-night hairdressing session. The men in the family had sensibly retired soon after their aborted "birds and the bees" discussion.

M'Umbha managed to stir herself to greet Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy with several hugs and kisses and many a "thank you" when the two arrived just before lunch.

Uhura watched with a not inconsiderable amount of trepidation as the three engaged in a rapid-fire semi-secret consultation after the welcoming was finished. She felt her heart sink lower and lower as McCoy gesticulated wildly and Kirk rubbed his hands together eagerly.

When the three turned speculative eyes on her, she smiled in spite of the nausea welling in her tummy.

________________________

"Len, are your crazy? The wedding is _tomorrow_!" Uhura frowned fiercely at her friend and clutched her gown to her chest. "I don't know how you convinced my mother that this was a good idea — she must be suffering from sleep deprivation or something — but I am _not_ letting you change this dress!"

"Now don't go gettin' your panties in a twist, gorgeous," Bones groused without much bite as he reached for the dress. "Your mama _loved_ it! You are gonna love it, too. I promise! It's the same greens as Spock's robes."

Uhura spun around out of his reach and straight into Kirk.

"C'mon," the captain cajoled, "it's gonna look great, Uhura. I promise. And when Spock sees how beautiful you look, all the Vulcan stoicism in the universe isn't going to keep his hands off you. Seriously, he'll probably grab you, throw you down and ha— ."

"Enough, Jim! That ain't helpin' things," the doctor snapped. "If I know that Vulcan, he probably can barely keep his hands to himself as it is. I know I wouldn't."

Uhura turned back to him, trying to hide a smile under her frown. Of course, she wasn't very successful.

"Oh, Bones," she said sweetly, "you really know how to make a girl feel special."

McCoy waggled his eyebrows and grinned lasciviously.

"That's what I'm here for darlin'," he said and held out a hand.

At that, Uhura couldn't hold back her mirth, and she erupted into peals of laughter. He shoulders shook and she came close to dropping the gown, but after her giggles faded into a wide grin, she aimed a considering look at her colleagues.

"All right, fine!" she said, at last, handing the dress to a smug-looking McCoy. "But if I have to walk down the aisle naked, you can be damned sure Spock will make you _both_ pay."

"I promise you, beautiful," he said, "much as I think that sight of you in the buff would be worth a beat-down from that overgrown elf, nothing is gonna go wrong with this dress."

* * *

**A/N:** So sorry it's taken me so long to update this! I had so much written already when the old computer died, I didn't want to have to replace it with new content. But I've finally accepted that I'm not getting any of that back unless I pay for data retrieval and started writing new stuff again. (**10/26** **EDIT: **Fixed a mistake in the timing.)

Usual disclaimer: I don't own the characters, most of the chapter titles are songs or song lyrics I also don't own, etc., etc.


	18. Get Me To The Marriage Grounds On Time!

_It's good to be home again_, Muta Uhura thought as he arrived at the homestead.

Excitement, building from the moment the red earth of the Garissa countryside gave way to the green vegetation of the compound, drove him to rush through the main house without even stopping to put down his bags. His little sister was getting married! He was eager to join his family in celebrating her joy. If the delicious smells were anything to go by he knew exactly where all that celebrating was happening.

Then he walked into the dining room. to find his mother and younger sister engaged in a war fought entirely through eye contact. Upenda was trying valiantly to pretend nothing was wrong, or to at least tease the other two women into declaring détente. His father and future brother-in-law appeared to be plotting their escape. Even without knowing what was going on, Muta was ready to join them, but a quick glance at his older sister confirmed that she knew exactly what he had been thinking. Her glare told him, loud and clear, he had better stay put if knew what was good for him.

Not even bothering to swallow his groan, he slumped into a chair at the dinner table and studied each of his relatives in turn. Not a joyful face among them. No one had even greeted him. In fact, Upenda's bawdy jokes aside, so far, no one had said a word. _Good thing Uncle Tabansi had taken the elders staying with them off to a restaurant_, Muta mused.

Another stolen glance at this father and Nyota's fiancé told him that the two men had already tried all they are willing or all they were able to do in order to diffuse the situation. He didn't know what the problem is, but as it hasn't been unusual, since she was a _very _small girl, to find his little sister locking horns with _anyone_ in the family, lack of knowledge wasn't a hurdle he was going to worry about jumping.

Reaching down to the bags he'd dropped beside his seat, Muta rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.

Pulling out a smallish object, crafted of gleaming dark wood and delicate strings, he eyed the half-Vulcan sitting across the table from him.

"Spock," he said, "I picked this up at a street fair the couple of weeks ago, and immediately thought of you. It's a bit like a crude little ka'athyra, don't you think? It's not tuned or anything, but I thought maybe, between the two of us, we might manage to fix that."

"Assist you in such a venture would be… most pleasing, kaka," Spock replied and Muta managed to stifle his surprise at the lack of formality with which he had been addressed.

"Well then," he said instead of letting his shock show, "we can get started as soon as we've all eaten."

"And you can go wash your hands before you eat anything, mwana," M'Umbha told him, taking her fierce eyes off Nyota for the first time.

Muta got up to follow her orders. Out of the corner of his eyes as he left the dining area, he saw his father's shoulders sinking in relief and noted Upenda's grateful smile. He grinned when he caught Nyota sticking her tongue out at their mother's back.

* * *

Nyota was restless. A few guests had already been milling around by the time she had crawled out of bed with the sun, and even though a few expressed shock that she was up at all — none had expected to catch more than a glimpse of her before the evening's ceremonies — she'd been too anxious about her dress to appease their sensibilities by hiding away in her room primping and being pampered. Her shaky smile and cold sweaty hands had more than one invitee wondering if she was planning on doing a runner.

Once her mother was up, she's ignored the older woman's repeated attempts at luring her back to the suite of rooms where Gaila, Upenda, Rand and Chapel already lay in wait. She didn't doubt that soon the five of them would find a way to forcibly remove her from the public areas of the compound, but she had no intention of going without a fight. Not before she saw her dress, anyway.

"Everything will be fine, binti," M'Umbha said, addressing her daughter in the slow, even tones usually reserved for lost children and potential jumpers. "Leonard is truly an artist with textiles, and Jim is — well, Jim so very eager not to see all his hard work ruined he'll likely stay out of Leonard's way until it is all done."

Needless to say, the bride-to-be didn't find the words very reassuring.

It wasn't until Muta, Benjamin and Spock had herded the bulk of the guests staying with the family — fifteen or so mostly older relatives — off to a picnic brunch in the gardens that she allowed herself to be distracted.

By prearrangement, Ambassador Sarek, who was _not_ staying in the Uhura home, and M'Umbha's brother, Tabansi, took it upon themselves to do the distracting. They pounced as soon as the last of the guests disappeared down the garden path.

"Lt. Uhura, I believe there is a task for which you require assistance from your uncle and me," said Sarek.

Tabansi Wakufunzi stood at his side, nodding gravely.

"Yes," he said, agreeing with the Vulcan, "we should take advantage of the empty house to get everything into place. You wouldn't want to ruin your surprise, would you, estrella pequeña? You have worked very hard on it for such a long time."

Thoughts of her project proved the perfect antidote to her near-hysteria over the state of her wedding gown. Offering both men a wide smile, she ran to fetch a ladder.

* * *

M'Umbha was not happy. That isn't to say that she was _un_happy. Dissatisfied was a closer approximation to what she was feeling. She'd waited so long to host a wedding for one of her terribly independent daughters and now, just when she was about to finally get her wish, Nyota was on the verge of mucking it all up. Bad enough the girl had contributed almost nothing to the actual planning—thank the gods for Spock! — but now, instead of relaxing in her parents' suit, submitting to the ministrations of the massage therapists they'd called in for the occasion, she was flitting around downstairs, no doubt working herself into a frenzy over her gown.

Part of her regretted encouraging her youngest child to give in the Dr. McCoy's last-minute alterations, but just thinking about how wonderful her youngest would look standing at her groom's side chased all such traitorous thoughts away. No, this was just a case of the girl's perfectionism coming back with a vengeance.

She looked across to room to where Upenda and Gaila were seated in a pair of chairs by the window, sorting through a pile of what looked like scraps of lace and satin in every hue of the rainbow — and in some colors that nature probably had never intended.

"Well, this one would go well under the dress," the Orion girl said, somewhat doubtfully. "It's just, well, Vulcans are so _strong_. It would be _such_ a waste if she had to turn it into cleaning rags after wearing it only once."

"Don't be silly," the no-nonsense elder Uhura daughter replied. "Ennie's going to _change_ before they go off to their tent for the night. It'll be fine." She held up a flimsy piece of fabric. "But _this_ one is just right for a wedding night. Perfect, even. And it's not worth much, so no big deal if it ends up in shreds."

M'Umbha shook her head and turned to wear Janice was frowning into the vanity mirror at the elaborate beehive the hairstylists had woven her golden locks into. It was beautiful — it suited the girl, that is, it would have had she been living in the United States of America during the 1960s. Sighing, M'Umbha gave a silent prayer that the yeoman wouldn't pass out in the heat. Hair like that could be heavy, even with today's advanced technology.

A low, pleased groan from the next room alerted everyone to the fact that the masseuse was finished with Christine. Gaila and Upenda both jumped up, eager to be next in line. M'Umbha chuckled softly and returned her attention to the young man who was painting her toenails. She smiled happily down at the deep burgundy color. It really _did_ look pretty against the brown of her skin.

* * *

The two tall young men walked ahead of the group, setting a leisurely pace. Each was laden with large food hampers — three and two, respectively — but did not use their burdens as an excuse to neglect their guests. Muta tossed back the occasional teasing comment, while, here and there, Spock offered an answer to a question about Benjamin's garden.

"You have been fortunate in both the son of your body and in the son you will gain tonight, eh Ben?" Elijah Uhura asked his cousin. "Both are intelligent, strong and have respect for their elders." He looked over to where little Nyota's fiancé was calmly discussing Benjamin's choice of ground cover with an elderly aunt known for her strong opinions and barbed tongue. "Not to mention patience — something we don't often see in young ones these days. What is your secret?"

Benjamin smiled but, as was his wont, took his time before answering.

"I had nothing to do with Spock's upbringing," he pointed out eventually. "He was a grown man before I ever met him. Muta, I can tell you, however, has had benefit of being the only son of M'Umbha Wakufunzi. He dared not grow up to be anything but polite!"

Elijah laughed at Benjamin's careful dodge. The two Uhura men came from a long line of freedom's warriors, but their grandmothers and grandfathers many times over had taught them that women ruled every Uhura home.

________________________

As soon as they reached their destination — a small grove of gnarled old olive trees — Muta and Spock began placing ground rugs under the direction of the bossy elderly aunt.

Elijah and Benjamin joined several of the women in unpacking the food, plates and utensils from the hampers. Amid the laughter and general conviviality, the xenopsychiatrist sneaked furtive glances to see how the half-Vulcan was coping. He froze when he saw a potentially disastrous scene begin to play out.

The elderly aunt had just ordered Spock to move a particular rug three centimeters to right — for the fifth time, if Dr. Uhura had counted correctly. Spock had moved the rug, but not before seeking out Muta's gaze and rolling his eyes slightly in the most unVulcanlike behavior Benjamin had seen him display since the day at the terminal.

"Impudent brat!" the elderly aunt snapped as he straightened from his task and boxed his pointed ear. "Show some respect."

Everyone in attendance watched as Spock looked down at the old woman.

"My apologies, Aunty Ethel," he told her. "Is the location of the covering satisfactory, or shall I move it another half millimeter?"

Aunt Ethel harrumphed as everyone else broke into relieved laughter and pretended not to see the old lady's approving smile.

Soon after that, everyone settled down to eat.

Having proven himself capable of dealing with the most difficult of the aunties, Spock was vastly popular. Benjamin overheard more than one relative draw him into conversations that covered the sciences — the traditional focus of the Uhura family, or linguistics — the purview of the Wakufunzis. He felt no shame in being pleased that his daughter had chosen a man who was adept in the former area of study.

He was finished eating and leaning back against a twisted olive trunk when Muta brought out the strange instrument he'd presented at the dinner table the night before. A meaningful glance at Spock had the other young man rising from his seat and moving over to one of the hampers.

Benjamin hadn't noticed the large case that had apparently been packed at the bottom of the hamper, but he smiled broadly when Spock pulled out his ka'athyra.

"A duet, kaka?" Muta called out as Spock walked over to join him.

_Yes_, thought Benjamin Uhura, _I have been fortunate_.

And then he settled back to listen to his two sons play.

* * *

Just over forty-five minutes after the ambush, Nyota mounted the ladder a final time. She resisted Tabansi's and Sarek's requests, then outright demands, that one of them handle the placing of the delicate components she'd spent so lone fabricating high on the pillars dispersed through the ground floor.

"I'm the communications expert here," she'd protested.

Uncle Tabansi had given her a wry look at that. "As am I," he'd said simply. "And _my_ concentration was actually more on the engineering side, while you specialized in languages."

"I too, have a background in the sciences, ko-fu," Sarek had added. He'd given up on calling her "Lt. Uhura" after Tabansi had pointed out that she was mere hours away from becoming his daughter-in-law and wouldn't it be more comfortable all around if he started treating her as such.

Neither of the humans had really expected the Vulcan ambassador to acquiesce, but Sarek had murmured something about comfortable human brides being _safe_ human brides and had graduated from addressing her as "Nyota" to "daughter" in minutes.

And there had been many opportunities for both Tabansi and Sarek to call out warnings to her, as she was almost reckless in her desire to see ever piece of equipment perfectly placed.

"Get up on the stage, samehk," she ordered from her perch atop the ladder after she finished installing the final component.

Sarek raised a Spock-like eyebrow, but as both men had been doing for nearly the past hour, he complied. Before he could turn in place to face where the "audience" would be later in the evening, the south-facing door opened to admit McCoy and Kirk.

"My dress!" Nyota shrieked, eying the garment bag that was slung over the doctor's shoulder.

Four pairs of eyes snapped over to her and three voices rang out with, "Stay where you are!"

Jim Kirk just laughed.

"I mean it, dollface," McCoy told her. "You come down from there nice and slow."

"Yeah," Kirk agreed, still grinning widely, "the last thing we need is Spock killing all of us for letting you fall."

Tabansi moved to the bottom of the tall ladder.

"Adept though he may be in hand-to-hand combat," Sarek dryly informed the group, "my son would find it difficult to succeed in against a full Vulcan, especially as his concern for Nyota mostly likely hamper his ability to plan and execute a logical offensive. Rest assured, at least one of us should survive to explain to Dr. and Mrs. Uhura why the wedding must be postponed." At that he looked up at his son's intended bride. "However, ko-fu, it would be preferable for you to simply refrain from injuring yourself."

Nyota nearly fell off the ladder anyway, she laughed so hard. She hadn't realized that full Vulcans — even ones who had spent thirty years married to a human — were capable of Terran-style humor.

Kirk and McCoy exchanged distinctly uncomfortable glances while Tabansi grinned wickedly up at his niece and held out a hand to guide her descent. Only when she was safely on the floor did Bones walk over to wear she stood and solemnly open the bag and slip out the gown for her viewing pleasure.

"Oh," gasped Nyota Uhura, rendered incapable of intelligent speech for the second time that week. "Oh, _Len_."

________________________

Before the brunch guests could begin trooping back into the house in the wake of the Uhura men and Spock, Tabansi persuaded a now-content — no _ecstatic_ — Nyota to join her mother, sister and friends upstairs to do all the mysterious womanly things a bride was supposed to do in the time before her wedding.

In her race up the stairs, she didn't see the relieved glances the two older men exchanged as, excusing themselves from the departing Kirk and McCoy, they quickly pieced together the final components to her project and then commenced a quick test of the system to ensure everything was working well.

Her head full of her dress, she burst into her parents' suite, smiling unable to stop herself from dancing as she crossed the room.

"Mama!" she exclaimed. "You should see what they did to my dress. It's wonderful!

* * *

Sunset was upon them almost before he knew it.

After her ship's surgeon and captain had delivered the gown and they'd finally been able to banish the girl back upstairs where she belonged, Tabansi had slipped a disc into Nyota's equipment and he and the ambassador had tested the system niece and uncle had designed and built — him giving remote assistance during her frequent subspace calls — over the past couple of months. He was gratified to see that all was in working order.

When Sarek had asked him to make a few changes to the disc Nyota had planned to use later that evening, at first he had been unsure. But then the Vulcan had explained what he had in mind and showed him a sample of what needed to be added and Tabansi had been more than willing.

The pair had retired to the rooms he always utilized when visiting his sister's home — it would do for Nyota, or any of the guests to discover what they were working on. And there had been quite a bit of work to do. Tabansi hadn't brought all the devices he would have preferred to use to bring about the changes, so he'd had to work much more carefully than would have been necessary otherwise.

Luckily, he had had enough foresight to make a copy of both his niece's disc and of the entire system while they worked together. Although the effects were different in the comparatively small space of his suite, he and Sarek were eventually able to call their endeavors successful.

He knew that the Vulcan had also been pleased when he'd taken his leave less than three hours before sunset — Sarek had needed to return to his hotel to prepare for the ceremonies and then to escort the remainder of the Vulcan contingent back to the Uhura compound. Tabansi slipped on his own robes, reflecting not for the first time, that the traditional garb of his people was not unlike that of the people his was marrying into.

Then, it was time to go downstairs, out the doors and follow the winding garden paths to where his segunda estrella pequeña would pledge her troth to a man she loved fiercely.

* * *

Sarek smoothed the folds of his pale formal robes and took a final glance in the mirror. In five point seven minutes he would collect T'Pau and the elder Spock from their rooms in the hotel. Their attendants would meet them on the ground floor to depart for the Uhura compound. For now, he could afford a minute or two to think about his Amanda.

_She would have loved being here_, he thought as wistfully as a Vulcan can think. Which was more wistfully than a human might imagine. _She was correct_, he conceded, _in her assessment of Nyota Uhura._

_ Nyota _is _exactly what our son needed in a bride. She will continue to teach him that peace and happiness are within his reach. Much as you did for me, ashayam_.

He walked over to the old-fashioned swinging door and pulled it open.

* * *

Benjamin watched his laughing son tease Spock.

"Really," the young linguist told his future brother-in-law, "if it weren't for the Vulcan script going down the lapels, they wouldn't be all that different from what every Wakufunzi man will be wearing today. How on Earth did my mother manage to find Vulcan robes?"

Spock's lips rose in a half smile as he considered the pale green under-robe and darker green floor-length vest. Words of Surak, embroidered in the same pale green as the under robe, trailed down the front.

"I believe Mama consulted my father on what is considered to be proper Vulcan wedding attire and commissioned these from his descriptions," he replied.

Muta laughed. "Well, except for the script, it couldn't have been too hard for her to find someone to fashion them for her," he said. "You and I could be twins!"

Benjamin smiled at that. It was true. Muta's pale green caftan was very similar to Spock's robes. He glanced down at his own long tunic, flowing trousers and vest. Also in shades of green, his clothing didn't have the dramatic flair of what his son's and soon-to-be son-in-law's, but he was clearly meant to be a part of their party.

Muta clapped a hand on Spock's back. "Are you ready for this?" he wanted to know. "There's still time to back out. Ennie will probably leave your head intact, though I'm not sure I promise as much for the rest of you."

Benjamin was happy to note that the half-Vulcan didn't tense at the abrupt contact or the personal nature of the conversation. He was pleased to see his daughter's fiancé already accepted that he was one of their own.

"Of course I am, kaka," Spock said. "I have been ready for seven years, ten months and three days."

* * *

There was a lot of giggling and shushing and hugging and last minute spritzes of perfume and dabbing at make-up going on. Upenda's head was practically swirling. She made a note to herself to require her bridal party to get ready before her if she ever got married. Better yet, she would elope.

She looked over to where her baby sister stood encircled of three fussing friends and a weeping mother. Nyota managed to look serene throughout it all. Upenda wondered if her dada's calm demeanor was due to the brief private visit with that old Vulcan witch this afternoon, or if facing death on a daily basis had taught her to smile in the face of anything.

_Anything, except not knowing the fate of her wedding dress_, she amended with a fond smile.

* * *

McCoy grumbled quietly to himself as he followed the procession. He knew he was about to observe something that most humans would never have the privilege to see, but he couldn't really see the point of it. Okay, he _could_ see the point of it. He just didn't see why the overgrown elf wanted _him_ there.

Then again, it was probably Nyota who had insisted on allowing her friends and family to attend. Not even the Enterprise's famously stubborn first officer seemed to be able to move when she made up her mind.

He grinned to himself. Spock was in for it now.

"Exciting, huh?" Jim quipped, catching his smile. "We'll be some of the first humans to see one of the Vulcans' most mysterious rites."

"Yeah," Bones told him, wriggling his eyebrows. "I can hardly wait."

________________________

Hiraku Sulu shuddered just a bit as Dr. Uhura's green paradise gave way to the red and bone-colored desert landscape. His colleague's father had created a paradise in a wasteland. Seeing it, wandering its paths, underscored why she was so entranced with the work he did in the ship's botanical gardens, but leaving the gardens behind made clear just how fragile it all was. He couldn't help but compare the gardens to the Enterprise crew's own existence in space. Like Dr. Uhura's oasis, they were constantly surrounded by a beautiful nothingness, living their lives just steps away from an environment in which they could not thrive.

________________________

They had told her that she need not attend this ceremony, but she wouldn't have missed it for the world. Yes, it was a longer walk from the big house than the later Terran ceremony would be, but she was strong in spite of her years, and accustomed to walking. She would see this "bonding" today.

Ethel Uhura had never married, herself, but she had seen young men and women join the clan in her ninety-eight years. While no one ever asked for her tacit approval, everyone watched closely when she met the prospective bride or groom for the first time. The ones she hadn't liked had not lasted long in her family. The Uhuras were warriors and it took a strong person to live at an Uhura's side. This half-Vulcan boy, this Spock, was a strong one. His mother had been a noted professor and linguists, which undoubtedly impressed the Wakufunzis, but she admired his strength. He had shown her proper respect after she had chastised him, but had not groveled at her feet. Little Nyota would do well with such a husband.

* * *

Spock stepped up onto the stone platform and stood before the gong hung over glowing coals. He turned to look over his shoulder at the small group of people waiting around the enclosure. It was not the ancestral lands of his family, but M'Umbha and Benjamin had worked hard to recreate that place. And as would have been his right had he stood on Vulcan soil, those closest to him were there.

That several e of Nyota's family were also in attendance was a testament to the changes that all Vulcans would have to accept is his father's race were to survive.

He turned, picked up the small mallet and hit the gong.

Turning again, he listened for the sound of his bride's procession. When the faintest sound of the traditional rattles touched his ears, he rang the gong again.

It wasn't long before the approaching footsteps caught the attention of the humans present, and all swung around to watch as T'Pau, preceded by two masked figures shaking wind chime-like instruments, was carried in on litter borne by four muscular Vulcans.

Behind her, Nyota entered, beautiful in the gown he had pricked his fingers scores of times while creating. He ignored the two Vulcans walking behind her. Their presence was not important. There was no chance that his Nyota would declare kal-if-fee. What they held would not be required.

All of his focus was on the breathtaking woman climbing up two steps to stand behind T'Pau.

Spock did not burn for his bride, but he felt his heart rate increase six point eight percent, nonetheless. Suddenly, breathing became difficult.

He stepped down from the platform and moved over to a second platform where the bearers had set T'Pau's litter before stepping aside to join the other four Vulcan attendants. She held up her left hand in the traditional salute and he mirrored it with his right hand.

"Spock," T'Pau intoned formally.

He knelt before her and her right hand drifted up to ghost over his face to his contact points.

"Of your own will S'chn T'gai Spock, son of Sarek, son of Skon," she began without initiating a meld, "you have chosen to join your mind to that of the woman Nyota Wangari Uhura. She is well suited to you, as you are to her. This pairing is logical and beneficial." T'Pau lifted her hand from his face and pointed. "Kal-if-farr!"

Spock rose and returned to the platform where and picked up the mallet once more. Only this time, he found Nyota at his side and she did not stay his hand. He struck the gong a third time.

Together, but without touching, the two knelt on the platform, the glowing coals between them. Spock barely breathed as they waited for T'Pau to approach. In minutes, nothing would separate him from the woman kneeling across from him.

* * *

**A/N:** Almost there folks. Sorry there was so little funny at the end, there, but Spock and Uhura are _bonding_ for goodness sake! No room for laughs. Also, in case anyone wants to protest Sarek resorting to teasing in order to keep Uhura on the ladder earlier, remember, just because a full Vulcan might consider humor illogical doesn't they don't understand and aren't able to utilize it. (Okay, many of them probably _wouldn't_ be able to utilize it, but Sarek is a diplomat who has spent a lot of time among humans. And he was married to one. Trust, he can use humor to diffuse a potentially dangerous situation.)

Oh yeah, pictures of Nyota in her dress are available with this story as it is posted at lj's Spock_Uhura community.

Disclaimer: I don't anything of value, including anything related to Star Trek.


	19. Gettin' Married In the Evenin'

T'Pau slowly approached the round platform. The human girl and Spock knelt facing each other across the heated coals. Each sat nearly perfectly still, palms resting on their thighs. They did not speak. _Good_, the old woman thought to herself. _They recognize the significance of what they are about to do_.

She eased herself down onto the broad space surrounding the fire pit, her back to those who had gathered to watch. Without uttering word — the girl had expressed her acceptance in her refusal to prevent the third sounding of the gong — she placed a hand at each of their contact points.

T'Pau had been alive for nearly a century and a half, and had melded with many in that time. Almost instantly, she was inside both of them.

As expected, she found Spock's mind to be almost wholly Vulcan in composition. Thoughts were ordered, passionate emotions were held in check and neatly assigned channels through which he could direct their flow.

The human's, _Nyota's_, mind was far more composed than any other of her kind that T'Pau had touched. It was not Vulcan, but as she had seen earlier, this woman knew how to order her thoughts, separate reason from emotion. Nyota Uhura matched Spock well.

Drawing on the two consciousnesses she held, T'Pau directed them to reach for each other physically, to touch the meld points where she did not touch, to weave themselves together, firming the link the link they already shared, making the bond permanent.

As the pair's thoughts mixed together, T'Pau felt Spock's amusement when he noticed his adun'a held something back.

_Secrets already_? he thought.

_A surprise_, the girl replied. _For later_.

T'Pau withdrew from them, her hands dropping to her sides.

________________________

_Although I have enjoyed your surprises in the past_, he teased, _I have found in general, they are not to my liking_.

_You will appreciate this one_, she thought back. _And then, you will possess all I have to offer_.

_I will hold you to that, adun'a_, he thought, sending her an impression of a completely different kind of possession. In return, he felt her aroused anticipation of their wedding night.

_You'd better_, she thought.

________________________

"That was it?" muttered McCoy as T'Pau rose from the platform and walked back to her litter, still without addressing the small audience. "We traipsed out here to the middle of the desert just so the three of them could play touchy-feely and the lovebirds could make googly eyes at each other?"

Jim elbowed his friend in the ribs.

"Shut up, Bones," he said.

Spock and Uhura continued to kneel, eyes for no one but each other.

* * *

Elijah Uhura stood on the wide edge of a plant bed built into the center of a stone floored plaza in the largest of his cousin's walled gardens. His tunic, with its twining vines embroidered in brown across a field of light olive green, nearly disappeared into the foliage surrounding him. His hand and face, he knew, would seem to hover in the half-light provided by a score of torches set high into the garden walls. The heady scent of night-blooming jasmine teased his nostrils.

Faces of seventy or so friends of and relatives and familiar strangers glowed in the torch-lit enclosure. Their portable chairs, set out in two groups, formed a wide aisle.

The tall half-Vulcan standing before Elijah among a small group of men inclined his head towards one of his companions.

"They come," Spock whispered.

Muta took up is small drum and gently struck up a simple, sensual cadence .

As the first quiet tones vibrated through the air, Elijah stepped forward slightly. His movement, more than the drum, caught the attention of the wedding guests. Everyone sat up a little straighter.

Muta's playing grew louder, but its rhythm never varied.

Nyota walked up the path, carrying a bouquet of fiery-colored Michigan lilies and with M'Umbha and Benjamin on either side of her. They moved their feet in time with Muta's music.

A melodic hum began to twine itself into the beat of the drum — Elijah recognized Upenda's much-less-off-key-than-usual contralto as the first voice (she must have been practicing!) — and spread through the seated guests as the women, Wakufunzi, Uhura and friends alike announced the bride's arrival.

Heat rolled off Spock in waves as he turned to face the approaching party, and Elijah could see that the younger man's breathing rate seemed to accelerate. _As it should_, he thought with a little smile before schooling his face back into what was proper.

The women and the drum grew louder as Nyota and her parents came closer to the top of the path. By the time the three stood directly in front of Elijah, the women's joyous crooning and Muta's powerful drumming were nearly deafening.

And then everyone went silent.

Elijah paused to allow the heavy weight of emotion to dissipate just a little before he spoke.

"Nyota and Spock are already of one mind and one heart," he told the gathering. "Tonight, we are gathered so that I can make it official for the Federation."

His words got the expected chuckle from the audience. When they'd settled down again, he immediately launched into the ceremony.

"Sarek, son of Skon," he addressed the Vulcan ambassador, his voice serious once again, "you and lady Amanda Grayson made a baby. You loved that baby and gave him comfort and you succored him during his times of need. He grew into a child whom you taught what is right and what is wrong, and watched that child grow into a young man. And you watched that young man find his way in your world and in many others. That young man has grown to become Spock, who stands before us all tonight, ready to confirm his pledge to his mate."

He turned to Benjamin and M'Umbha.

"M'Umbha Wakufunzi, you carried the babies of Benjamin Uhura in your body and brought them forth into the world. Together, you and Benjamin loved these babies and you comforted and succored them when they cried out the needs of babies. They grew into children whom you taught what is right and what is wrong. One by one, you watched your children grow into young adults. They have found their own paths through this world and many others while you have stood back and watched, at parents must do. Your youngest child has grown to become Nyota, who stands before us all tonight, ready to confirm her pledge to her mate."

Although his attention was focused on the three parents he was addressing, Elijah noticed that some guests were already wiping their eyes. _Good_. He liked keeping everyone on their toes.

"Sarek, M'Umbha and Benjamin," he continued, "a parent's job does not end when his or her child joins with another. But it is a time for stepping back, and for preparing for a new role in their lives."

Sarek stepped back from Spock's side and a tearful M'Umbha and a carefully sober Benjamin moved away from Nyota.

"We are thankful that you have given life to such children," Elijah said.

"Thank you, Sarek, for creating Spock with Lady Amanda Grayson, so that I could find in him _k'hat'n'dlawa_, my t'hy'la, my adun," Nyota said.

Elijah wondered if the Vulcan noticed the implications inherent in his little cousin's words and if he was horrified by them. Between the darkness and the ambassador's control, he couldn't tell.

"Thank you, M'Umbha and Benjamin, for creating Nyota, so that I could find in her half my heart and my soul, my life-friend, my wife," Spock said.

When the two had finished the ritual expressions of gratitude, Elijah addressed the couple for the first time.

"Spock and Nyota, please join hands."

Without speaking again, they complied.

"Your love for one another has brought you to this moment. Already, you stand before us, two minds and one, never to be parted. Throughout your lives together, you will face challenges and embrace joys. Your love for one another shall touch all you experience. There will be times when you will rely on it and revel in it, as much as you will rely on and revel in the bond you made less than an hour ago. And so, Nyota, Spock, remember these words about love,

When love beckons to you, follow him,  
Though his ways are hard and steep.  
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,  
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.  
And when he speaks to you believe in him,  
Though his voice may shatter your dreams  
as the north wind lays waste the garden."

In the silence that followed, the words to the famous 20th century poems settled over the gathered guests and the couple.

"And do not forget the rest of what Mr. Gibran had to say on the subject,

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.  
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:  
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.  
To know the pain of too much tenderness.  
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;  
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.  
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;  
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;  
To return home at eventide with gratitude;  
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips."

Elijah's pause was shorter this time. It was time to get down to business.

"Spock, if you will take Nyota, repeat after me," he ordered. "I, S'chn T'gai Spock," he managed not to mangle the lineal name too badly. Much like Upenda, he'd been practicing! "son of Sarek have pledged myself — mind, body and soul — to Nyota Wangari Uhura, and promise now to honor that bond as long as we both shall live."

The half-human man's eyes never left his bride's as he repeated the words in surprisingly warm tones. Elijah sensed a surge of joy rush through the garden.

"Nyota, if you will accept Spock, repeat after me: I, Nyota Wangari Uhura, bint Wakufunzi have pledged myself — mind, body and soul —," he paused, deciding there was no way he was going to attempt Spock's full name once again, "to Spock, son of Sarek, and promise now to honor that bond as long we both shall live."

Her voice shook just the tiniest bit as she recited her vows, and Elijah bit back a smile. There was still one last bit to get through.

"Spock and Nyota have vowed, before all present, to honor and uphold the bond that joined their minds. By the laws of Vulcan and of the Federation, they are a bonded pair. Now, by the power vested in me by the district of Garissa in state of Kenya in the United States of Africa on the planet Earth, I now pronounce this bonded pair married throughout the member planets of the United Federation of Planets and under all laws recognized therein," he said, at last exchanging solemnity of what he called his "officiant face" relax into a fond smile. "Welcome to the family," he murmured for Spock's pointed ears only.

His young cousin was clearly head-over-heels for her new husband. She beamed up at him and then at their quietly clapping guests. But Spock continued staring at his wife with an intensity that made Elijah's heart clench. Whoever said Vulcans didn't have feelings must have been blind. _That_, he decided, _is love in the boy's eyes_.

His musings were confirmed when Nyota started to turn and step down the aisle, but was stopped with a gentle tug of her husband's hands.

"Adun'a," Spock said, drawing her close. Elijah smiled as bemusement warred with joy on her face. If he was reading the barely there expression on the young man's face correctly, he suspected he knew what was on his new cousin's mind. "Is it not currently customary, at the conclusion of most Terran wedding ceremonies, for a groom to kiss his bride?"

Fleetingly, shock played across her face, but was immediately replaced by another blinding smile.

"Oh! Yes!" she told him, laughing. "Absolu— ."

Spock's lips were on hers before she could finish speaking and Elijah's own shout of laughter was instantly overwhelmed by cheers and thunderous applause as family and friends joined in rejoicing for the couple.

Rising above the sounds of celebration, Elijah caught a voice that held distinct traces of the American South.

"Now _that's_ what I call a wedding!" exclaimed Dr. Leonard McCoy.

* * *

**A/N:** Elijah quotes from Khalil Gibran's poem _The Prophet_. His advice to Uhura and Spock is taken from the end and the beginning of the section on love.

Stay tuned for the reception and Uhura's "surprise".

Disclaimer: I don't own them.


	20. They Danced All Night

The low benches that usually sat beneath the windows on the ground floor of the Uhura home had been cleared away and small round tables now dotted the areas immediately adjacent to eastern and western walls. A stage had been erected just to the side of the southern entryway and a long buffet table, covered with an abundant variety of food and drink, stood halfway across the room between one of the columns and the staircase leading to the upper floors.

Much to his surprise, Spock was having fun.

That is to say, he appreciated the lively music provided by friends Muta had lured into playing with the promise of free food and plenty of beautiful men and women in attendance. Percussive instruments featured heavily in their repertoire and he found the heavy beats pounding through most of the songs to be as pleasing as they were stimulating.

Clearly, his bondmate was also enjoying the experience. Immediately after they had eaten, he had been required to dance with her as the band struck up their first song of the night. Fortunately, his brother-in-law had instructed his friends to play a waltz which Spock had found easy enough to follow.

Now, though, he could feel that Nyota longed to join the colorfully dressed swarm of people making use of the dance floor. With palpable envy, she watched Upenda and young Joanna McCoy attempt to teach the girl's father to writhe and ungulate in time with the drums. The arrhythmic, but gamely enthusiastic doctor defied the powers of their joint endeavors to shift and twist his arms and legs in ways that complemented their own movements.

Elsewhere, Jim was displaying considerable technical expertise for the benefit of Spock's human cousin, Sarah. The half-Vulcan was not surprised to see that his captain could acquit himself, even to the accompaniment of the selection of various styles of Terran music Muta's friends were playing, in a manner most females and several males undoubtedly considered to be an aesthetically pleasing.

Nyota had explained to him once that many Terran females, either consciously or unconsciously, evaluated an individual's aptitude for dancing as an indicator of his or her probable performance as a partner in sexual relations. The correlation between the two was easy enough to see in the less formal style of dance in which their guests were currently engaged. Spock studied his friend's movements for a time before deciding that he could do better if he chose to do so.

He did not choose to.

Nyota, however — his bondmate, whom he was obligated to please — was another matter.

"Go," he murmured in her ear. "I shall be pleased to stand here and watch you, beloved."

She turned uncertain eyes on him.

"Are you sure, Spock? I don't want to leave you here all by yourself if you're not going to enjoy yourself."

As he thought about the unconsumed portion of Ensign Chekov's "gift" which currently lay in the depths of duffle he would carry to the tent where he and Nyota were expected to consummate their bond and their marriage, his lips rose in one of the near smiles that had become habitual in his time spent among the Uhuras. Perhaps Muta could be persuaded to give him a recording of some of these songs to take as well. His wife would appreciate knowing that, should the need ever arise, her husband could comport himself more than adequately on the dance floor. Further study of her particular preferences would prove beneficial.

He allowed a tiny hint of his anticipation flow through the bond and was rewarded with a knowing grin for his efforts.

"I assure you, adun'a, I shall find the view edifying."

* * *

Of the handful of Spock's human relatives who had accepted invitations to the wedding, these two were Nyota's favorites. Although he had never said so aloud, she knew her husband felt the same way.

Samuel Grayson looked a lot like his older sister. His eyes were hazel instead of dark brown and his caramel-colored hair was flecked liberally with gray, but Nyota saw echoes of Amanda in the curves and planes of his face. And when his pretty young daughter, who had her father's eyes and auburn hair all her own, stretched her lips into a wide grin, the smile was so much like her aunt's, Nyota nearly gasped.

"Sarah! Uncle Sam! It's good to see you again!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a welcoming hug. "We're so glad you guys were able to come."

She pulled away from Sam to regard Sarah Grayson again while giving Spock a chance to greet his uncle.

"I can't believe how different you look," she said and grabbed both of the younger woman's hands. "Five years may as well have been a life-time."

Nyota gave Sarah's hands a squeeze and then froze.

"What's this?" she asked, drawing looks from both Spock and Sam. She pulled the girl's left hand closer to her eyes. "Omigod! Does this mean what I think it means?"

Sarah gave a blissful laugh and squeezed back.

"Yes! He asked me last week."

Nyota felt a sudden burst of worry that she knew wasn't her own. _A fine time for him to start playing overprotective cousin_, she thought, carefully shielding the thought from her husband.

"Oh Sarah," she said aloud, "that's wonderful! Why didn't you say anything?"

The red-haired woman shook her head. "This is your day, Ny. Tom and I weren't going to steal your thunder."

"Nonsense," Nyota assured her. "My family love having something to celebrate and, I promise you, they consider you and Sam part of the family now. Just wait 'til I tell Mama. You'll be swamped with old ladies giving you advice for the rest of the night."

Sarah laughed again and Sam smiled indulgently. But Spock's concern threatened to overwhelm his wife's good mood.

"Sarah," he said, "are you not rather young to be committing yourself to a permanent romantic relationship?"

"Spock! I'm twenty-two. That's older than Nyota was when she told Aunt Amanda she was going to marry you, no matter what it took."

He looked at his wife and raised an eyebrow.

"It seems everyone except your mother and I was aware of your declaration," he said. "I was not aware that it was a human custom for young women to choose their own mates while still in their adolescence."

His cousin shot her a wicked smile.

"I'm sorry I have to include you in on this one, Ny," she said, "but I hope you and Spock have _a lot_ of daughters."

* * *

Remnants of the laughter provoked by M'Umbha Uhura's wedding speech still came from the gathered guests as he made his way towards the front of the room. But the silence that met Sarek's ascendance to the stage would have been deafening for a human. Apparently no one expected the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth to deliver a teasingly sentimental tribute to his newly married son. Amanda would have been trying valiantly to hold back laughter. He felt her absence acutely in that moment.

"It is my understanding," he began before the humans could grow too uncomfortable, "that a parent has many choices when addressing those gathered to celebrate the marriage of his or her offspring. I have been told, and have been given the opportunity to observe, that some parents choose to recount tales from their son's or daughter's childhood as a means of using mildly embarrassing transgressions in order to instill a sense that all gathered share an understanding of the offspring's essential nature.

"As many of you know, Vulcans do not exhibit emotions such as embarrassment, and so such an endeavor would be wasted on my son."

There were two titters of laughter from the mass of people watching him. Sarek easily identified his daughter-in-law and her mother as the sources the displays of amusement. He nodded to Nyota.

"Another course available to me would lie in listing my son's accomplishments and singing his praises so that all gathered might know that he is a worthy mate for his bride. However, many of you already know Spock's history and while I am pleased with my son, Vulcans are also taught that pride is an emotion which must be overcome.

"My wife would have told me that telling you this was 'nonsense' and that you would expect me to be proud of him. That he is strong and dedicated. That he is brave and loyal. She would have pointed out that he was intelligent enough to choose a bondmate who is more than deserving of being the beneficiary of the aforementioned qualities. With the last, which she did say on several occasions prior to Spock and Nyota's decision to bond, I must concur." He looked at Spock and inclined his head. "You have chosen well, sa-fu.

"A third recourse would be to offer my daughter-in-law advice, gleaned from my own decades of with Spock's mother, on how to have a pleasing marriage. At this point, my bondmate would have interrupted the speech to remind me that as a 'buttoned up Vulcan' I was incapable of adequately expressing the suitability of their union, much less telling Nyota how best to cope with being our son's wife." This was met with a few more laughs, louder and less restrained this time. Sarek was unsure who the additional voices belonged to.

"As I must also concur with that assessment," he said, "I ask you to listen while my bondmate says what I cannot."

He glanced over to Tabansi who touched a fingertip to a tiny device hidden in the palm of his hand.

The lights in the room dimmed.

An image of Amanda Grayson, his lost mate, appeared on the stage.

"It takes a strong human to marry a Vulcan," the holographic Lady Amanda said. Even to Sarek's acute hearing, her voice was near-perfect. "Fortunately, you are very strong woman. I'm so happy that he has found you."

.

.

"_You life won't always be easy, ko-fu, but I believe you will be happy," Amanda told the young woman who had so brashly declared she would marry her son one day. "I believe you will make _Spock_ happy._

"_There will be times when he'll try your patience to no end! And in those moments you'll just have to take a breath and remind yourself that you're likely doing the same to him. Don't let that Vulcan reserve fool you — they get annoyed with us, too! — even if they don't show it the way a human will. But I'm sure you already know what I mean about that._

"_But the love… the love he will show you is like nothing you can imagine. Being bonded means more than just being married. Its truly becoming a part of one another. He'll always be there, even when you're parted. And you'll do the same for him. Neither of you will ever be alone._

"_I know it might feel a little overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to the constant _presence_ and even learn to appreciate it. Because always having him there means always having someone to lean on, and that's important, even in those moments when you want to twist those pointy ears right off his head. Don't laugh!" _

.

.

Uhura, and much of the audience, laughed anyway. Sarek saw her clasp Spock's hand in hers.

.

.

"_I know my stubborn son, ko-fu, so you can't tell me being with him is always sunshine and roses. Still, since you've stuck it out this long, I know I couldn't have chosen better for him myself," Amanda said, eyes shining. "Oh wait! I _didn't_, did I? Choose better, I mean."_

.

.

If Sarek had been human, and if he had not already known it was coming, he would have winced at the mention of Spock's ill-fated betrothal to T'Pring.

.

.

"_Which is why you made me happier than I had been in years, that first time you contacted me. You'd think I would have been a little disturbed to have a near stranger announce 'I'm going to marry your son one day, Lady Amanda'— even if that stranger was an accomplished Starfleet cadet who happened to be the daughter of one of the most respected women in my field. But I knew you were the one, from the moment you opened your mouth._

"_Welcome to the family, ko-fu. I never had a daughter of my own, so I hope M'Umbha doesn't mind sharing."_

.

.

Amanda's image flickered out and, as the lights came up again, the applause started. Nyota's family and friends smiled toward him and towards the bride and groom who appeared completely unaware of their guests as they stood, foreheads and hands touching.

Sarek scanned the room and saw that M'Umbha Uhura, Sam Grayson, as well as his brother-in-law's daughter, were all wiping moisture from their eyes.

* * *

The musicians had wisely begun playing a selection of what Nyota had called some of Lady Amanda favorite dance music again just moments after Ambassador Sarek had left the stage. There had been little time for anyone to grow maudlin over Spock's lost mother.

Upenda Uhura twirled around sending gossamer skirts flying and then stopped suddenly, stamping a foot and clapping her hands. Ten seconds later, and in time with the music, Joanna imitated her perfectly. Bones watched as the pair traded dance moves back and forth for about a minute and a half before rolling everything into one long sequence and aiming expectant looks at Nyota. The three of them repeated the moves until the song ended.

Nyota's big sister was delightful company. She'd even managed to win over his daughter in the short hours of their acquaintance.

When young woman had mentioned (with a wink and a nod) that "we're staying the hotel for a couple days so Daddy can recover from making Nyota's dress" before they set out for their own vacation, Upenda had offered to play chief tour guide and babysitter while he slept off his excesses.

He'd been all set to refuse her kind offer, but Joanna had leapt in before he could get the words out.

"Oh, Daddy, can I please? Nurse Chapel said she has the _best_ taste and really knows how to find a bargain!" she'd pleaded. "Come on, Dad, this way you can sleep in tomorrow. And we'll even bring back a surprise for you. Uncle Jim said you and 'Penda have just about the same taste in booze an— ."

He had cut her off.

"Okay! You ladies make sure you have fun tomorrow," he'd said, making a mental note to have a word or two with Jim about appropriate topics for conversations with a teenager.

"But, who said anything about shopping?" he had asked, pretending to look stern. "And since when have you been interested in all that girl stuff anyway?"

"Ever since _you_ started making wedding dresses!" his cheeky little girl had replied with a wicked grin that reminded him a bit too much of himself.

It really was too bad he was getting back on a starship a few months. And that he'd sworn off romance until Joanna was finished with her schooling, which might take longer than he'd been banking on — the girl had been grilling Upenda about medical school.

"I thought you wanted to be an architect," he'd said breaking out of his reverie and into their conversation.

"It was something I _considered_," Joanna had confessed, "but between you and 'Penda, the family business is starting to sound more and more interesting. Plus, I got really great marks in cellular biology last term. And it was fun. I'm taking xenobiology in the spring."

Bones had let their voices drift away as Upenda answered Joanna's questions about the merits of practicing general medicine over specializing as Dr. Benjamin Uhura had done. He'd found himself back on the train of thought he'd so recently abandoned.

_Family business_, she'd said. And had included Upenda in that hypothetical "family." The ex-Mrs. McCoy was an artist.

_Nah, isn't smart to even start thinking that way_. Though it would have been nice.

He'd shaken his head and happened to catch Christine Chapel staring at their little group. It looked like she'd been studying them for a spell. Not for the first time, Bones wondered which one of them, him or Upenda, was the object of the nurse's affections, now that Spock was taken.

Then Nyota and her overgrown elf had approached and within five minutes of meaningless conversation, the women had abandoned their menfolk for the dance floor once more.

The two Starfleet officers chatted amiably for a few minutes — discussing the wedding ceremonies and playing who's-who among the guests — before either gave into the urge to take a shot at the other.

"Your daughter appears to be rather taken with the Uhura women," Spock noted now. "When she is in their company, she does not seem to be the quiet, studious child you have so often described. Curiously for one who received half of her genes from you, her face is also quite aesthetically pleasing. If their influence has a lasting effect on her personality, I suspect you and her mother will find that she attracts as many prospective mates as her mentors have done. I hope you are prepared, Leonard."

Bones watched as the women started comparing a new series of moves for the latest song. Joanna had a huge smile on her face and the Uhuras were enthusiastically urging her on. He could swear the Vulcan was laughing at him.

"I hope you have daughters, Spock," Bones told his friend. "Lot's and lot's of daughters that inherit Ms. Uhura's gorgeous face and your smart mouth."

Jim arrived at their sides in time to hear the doctor's curse and let out a shout of laughter.

Spock merely an eyebrow.

"You are not the first tonight to have expressed a desire for me to become that father of female offspring," he said and walked off to speak with other guests.

This time, Bones _knew_ the green-blooded cuss had been mocking him. He looked over at Jim, only to find his captain wearing that grin that said he'd spotted likely prey and was about to go on the hunt.

The red-headed beauty was the one, Bones was sure of it. He groaned internally and briefly considered

"Look all you want, but I wouldn't touch if I were you, Jim. That's Spock's cousin, Sarah Grayson. The Elf Prince said she's got a fiancé somewhere around here."

* * *

Couples — mostly from the older generations, but surprisingly Spock and Nyota, too — were swaying gently to the more sedate sounds provided by Astra Boipuso's golden voice. Jim hadn't realized that the older Spock had hired the singer from the nightclub as a wedding gift to Spock and Uhura, but now that he wasn't listening to her while half blasted out of his mind, it was clear why the older half-human had suggested they catch her show during Spock's stag night.

Astra Boipuso had a voice a man could get lost in. And even though she appeared to be somewhere between her late forties to late sixties, she still had a face and body Kirk wouldn't mind exploring a little more closely.

It seemed as if half the women close to his age were related to Uhura, and therefore off-limits.

.

"_I don't know how you can stand it," he'd told Muta Uhura earlier in the night. "Aren't there any _un_attractive females on either side of your family?"_

_Muta had snorted at that. "Trust me, they're considerably less attractive when you've grown up with them. I could tell you stories that would make your jaw hit the floor."_

_Jim had grinned with unrepentant devilment._

"_Lucky me," he said, "I'm not a member of the family and I didn't grow up with any of them."_

"_I don't think you could handle a Wakufunzi woman, Jim," Muta had warned. "And after a night with an Uhura you'd probably need to spend a week in hospital."_

_Thinking about the times he'd watched Nyota spar with Spock, fight back unfriendlies on two of the times she'd been a part of disastrous landing missions, Jim had decided that her brother probably wasn't exaggerating._

.

Another quarter were related to Spock — who knew he had (hot!) human cousins? — and therefore off-limits. The rest were either his crew (and off-limits), Vulcan (and off-limits) or not interested in men. And he really didn't have the energy to try to convince a woman to go against her nature.

"Looks like you and our hobgoblin aren't the only ones who forgot to duck when Cupid started shooting his arrows," McCoy observed.

Jim peered across the room to see what had caught his friend's eye.

Ambassador Spock had hired the nightclub singer as a gift for the music-loving couple, but now he stared steadily her at as she finished the last words of her song. It was hard to tell what with the distance and the ambassador's Vulcan reserve, but it sure looked like he wasn't just assessing the quality of her performance. A slow smile stretched over the starship captain's face.

"Think I should go over to her?" he asked. "Force his hand, maybe?"

"Only if you're in the mood to get your ass handed to you again." Leonard smirked. "It'd be pretty embarrassing to take a beat down from a man more than five times your age. And then you gotta think about what M'Umbha would do to you for ruining her baby girl's wedding."

Jim just smiled all the more.

"You're probably right about that, Bones," he conceded. "About M'Umbha, at least."

But then, none of it mattered because the woman onstage had finished singing and was saying her good-byes. Ambassador Spock was already on the move.

* * *

**A/B:** And that's all folks! That is, until we meet everyone again in _The Comes Spock_. Also, see what happens when Amb. Spock catches up with the nightclub singer in _Beneath the New Vulcan Moon_.

Disclaimer: Never owned 'em at all.


End file.
